The Story is Eternal
by Umi Hinode
Summary: With hints of a new story beginning, the story of twisted love closed its curtains. Two and a half years later, life continues on in the city that never sleeps. / post-ketsu, sh divergent; series of connected one-shots / Chapter 17: "What is love, to someone who isn't human?"
1. introduction

**introduction**

Welcome to the chaotic mess that is The Story is Eternal! I couldn't fit everything in the summary so here's some additional information.

\- This is a direct continuation of my fic Life is an Unknown Course. While not necessarily required reading, I would highly recommend it since this is a canon divergence I've taken several creative liberties with that finds its roots in LIAUC. If Shizaya isn't your cup of tea and you're just here for the others however, skipping it is completely fine.

\- This series is nonlinear and being written out of order, and though I have said otherwise in the past, I would not recommend reading in any order besides the order of publication. As with DRRR proper, everything is connected.

\- For your reference, the chronological order is as follows. This is _not_ a recommended reading order, this is just to keep the timeline cohesive. Note that some chapters have flashbacks that cause said chapters to occur on several points on the timeline; this timeline corresponds to what is considered the "present" of each story.

 **i.** Beauty in Simplicity ( _Shincelty_ )

 **ii.** All That Matters ( _Mikado, Masaomi, Anri, & Saki_)

 **iii.** Home ( _Anri_ )

 **iv.** Life is an Unknown Course ( _Shizaya_ )

 **v.** Forgiveness ( _Masaomi, Saki, & Izaya_)

 **vi.** Take a Chance ( _Varona_ )

 **vii.** Complications ( _Namie & Izaya_)

 **viii.** Life is an Unknown Course Epilogue

 **ix.** Bittersweet/Where Your Love Lies ( _Shizuo, Varona, Namie, & Izaya_)

 **x.** Lovey-Dovey Prattles of an Underground Doctor/Unwavering Thoughts ( _Shincelty_ )

 **xi.** Unconditional Love ( _Shizaya_ )

 **xii.** 'Tis the Season ( _Shizaya_ )

 **xiii.** Death and Rebirth ( _Varona_ )

 **xiv.** Balancing Act ( _Shizaya_ )

 **xv.** One Day at a Time ( _Izaya_ ) / Growing Pains ( _Heiwajima Namiko_ )

 **xvi.** All in This Together

 **xvii.** Words of Love

\- The next installment, All in This Together, should be out sometime in September, and the arc that follows it, Words of Love, should start in October.

Thank you for your interest in this little series of mine! I hope you enjoy!


	2. complications (namie)

**complications**

 _"she had a bad habit of falling for the ones she could never have."_

* * *

"There's something different about you."

Her sudden observation had noticeably caught him off guard, which only further proved her point. This couldn't have happened three years prior. She couldn't have dreamed of seeing the man in front of her sincerely smile as he asked, "Is that so?"

It had been easy to notice, having spent so much time with him in the past. He didn't talk about what had transpired while he was gone, so she hadn't bothered to bring it up; at least, not with him. On the surface, Orihara Izaya was still the same man. He continued his work as an informant with an almost unhealthy obsession towards humans. He still acted on his own whims, helping others and causing trouble as much as he could, lusting after his desire to see every possible outcome for any possible situation. That being said, he was still, undeniably, a bastard.

Yet something was different. He was more open, more honest. He didn't talk about the aftermath, but not to keep it secret, she could tell that much. To him, there was probably no point in discussing it. She could find her answers elsewhere, as in how his devilish smirks had turned into genuine smiles. Most of the time.

She had no doubt it was because of Heiwajima Shizuo.

At first, it had shocked her. She couldn't begin to fathom how Orihara Izaya, of all people, could change seemingly just like that, and because of his lifelong enemy no less. Not only that, but they were no longer enemies, that was for certain. Izaya couldn't have been keeping secrets if he could be open about that fact.

Strangely, it was that that might have drawn her to him in the first place.

"You're not nearly as bad as you used to be," she clarified, crossing one leg over the other as she nonchalantly sipped her coffee. "I guess almost losing your life finally gave you a modicum of sense."

His eyes widened ever so slightly as she spoke, though he was quick to recover, regaining that perpetual glint of mischief he was known for. "You could say that."

"Heiwajima's turned you soft."

Izaya chuckled. "Perhaps he has." His attention shifted back to the computer in front of him, resuming his work, though he found himself saying, "I didn't think you and Shizu-chan were friends."

Namie shrugged her shoulders. "Who knew he could be full of useful information, despite having even less sense in him than you."

Izaya's hands halted and he glanced over at her, almost pouting in a way. "You wound me, Namie-san, and after I've done so much for you."

"You probably would have charged me outrageously for answers," she replied, simply sipping away at her coffee once more. "Well, perhaps not."

No matter how much about him changed, there were bits of pieces of him she figured she could never forget. She had, after all, convinced herself for the longest time that Izaya had ruined her life. She knew that most of this blame could be placed on Ryuugamine Mikado, not to mention herself, but back then, Izaya had been the root of it all. He had been the reason she had to live her life in fear, hiding from the public eye. She had been forced to work for him in order to ensure her safety. Now, she could work for him of her own volition, though she considered herself even more of a fool now, to _want_ to work for Orihara Izaya.

Two months prior, she had returned to Ikebukuro out of shame, but now, she supposed she felt free for the first time in years.

At first, she was simply following Seiji and Mika; something she had made a habit out of over the past few years. They, much to her surprise, wanted to return to Ikebukuro. At first, Namie couldn't begin to understand why. Seiji had spent years trying to be with his beloved, and Mika had spent a decent amount of time trying to obtain the head that kept her own beloved at bay. When she questioned Seiji about it, she couldn't have been prepared for his answer.

 _"I think I'm in love with Mika."_

Namie had known for years that Seiji could never accept her feelings, not only for their impure nature, but for how he longed for something he could not have, just as she had. Now, after what seemed like a lifetime, everything was changing. Before, she had expected reality to crumble around her. She couldn't accept Seiji's love for the head, therefore she couldn't accept Seiji's love for anyone other than her. Seiji was her world.

But she supposed that, somewhere along the way, perhaps she had changed, too.

 _"I'm so happy for you, Seiji."_

She didn't cry. She didn't scream. She simply smiled.

Somewhere inside her she might have known that she wanted to move on, but it took him saying that for her to become cognizant of that fact.

And so she had returned home. Upon doing so, it didn't take her long to learn that Izaya was still alive. Before, she hadn't even realized what he had been scheming. She had been far too busy being abducted by her uncle and Kujiragi Kasane, and rescued, regrettably, by Kishitani Shingen to know. Naturally, she had learned what she had needed to know through Mika.

She hadn't wanted to return to him at first, but life worked in mysterious ways. Namie was a scientist by blood, and she had an innate curiosity for the world around her. That world just so happened to include Orihara Izaya, whether she liked it or not.

 _"Why do Shizuo-senpai and Orihara Izaya no longer wish to destroy one another?"_

Upon hearing that, she had to find out more, both about Shizuo and Izaya, and this mysterious woman known only as Varona. She had found herself right back where she started, asking Izaya for information, perhaps against her better judgement, and it had been a downward spiral from there.

At least, that's what it should have been. Instead, it ended up being the exact opposite.

Yagiri Namie was falling for Orihara Izaya. Hard.

She had a bad habit of falling for the ones she could never have.

She had hated him back then, but as she willingly pulled herself back into his life, she had many a realization. Orihara Izaya was a despicable man, but by the same token, Yagiri Namie was a despicable woman. They knew everything there was to know about one another. There were no secrets to be had.

It was complicated, this relationship between the two of them.

At least this time she wasn't stupid enough to think that she had a chance. Izaya could acknowledge her feelings, she could acknowledge her feelings, but neither could accept them.

And she was okay with that. If she could fall out of love with Seiji, something she had deemed impossible, then anything was possible. After all, a certain woman had caught her eye as well, and Izaya wasn't about to let her forget that.

"So, how are things going with Varona?"

Namie managed to laugh at that, smiling to herself. "Alright, I suppose. She's a strange woman."

"So aren't you," Izaya deadpanned. "I don't understand how you're still wearing that atrocious turtleneck of yours."

"You have no right to talk, wearing that disgusting jacket."

Their eyes met, and they might have smiled.

Some things had changed, but in a way, it was if nothing had changed at all.

* * *

 **author's note**

If you're here from Life is an Unknown Course, welcome back! If not, welcome to whatever this crazy little series is! Yes, this is out earlier than I planned, surprise! I'm trying out something different with my update schedule. I won't have the time to post this on Friday anyway, so why not? I was originally going to post everything as individual stories since that's what I'm doing over on ao3, but ao3 at least lets you group a series together, so I thought it might be easier to make into one giant fic here instead.

Namie's story was originally going to be a part of another multi-chapter fic focused on her and Varona, but I thought it might be easier to release bits and pieces here and there since I have so much I want to explore, so if it feels incomplete right now, that's why. This is pretty short, but I just wanted to set a few things up without burying you all in exposition. If you're feeling confused (most likely because I mentioned something that hasn't been shown yet), don't worry, all will be addressed soon. Call this an experiment in somewhat imitating drrr's style. Once more one-shots start coming out, I'll have a guide up on my profile. I have everything so far listed in chronological order, along with the update schedule, so feel free to check that out if you want.

Anyway, one of the things I wanted to explore most was Izaya and Namie's relationship post-aftermath since they only interacted for a second in liauc, so this ended up being written first, even if it only shows bits and pieces.

Thank you so much for reading! As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. And, if you're interested, the next chapter will be Shinra-centric, and out next Wednesday!


	3. take a chance (varona)

**take a chance**

 _"much to her surprise, varona takes izaya's suggestion into consideration."_

[ trigger warning for attempted suicide ]

* * *

She had failed.

Somehow saying that aloud, affirming her mistakes not only to herself but to the world, had hurt far more than her initial realization.

She had wanted to test human strength; that was her reason for living. However, she was weak, and so she had to search for something new, more fitting. She wanted to experience joy, but in her eyes, she was not worthy of such a thing.

So was the story of Nastasya Voronin, codename Varona.

Varona had returned to Ikebukuro out of shame, though she supposed she also returned out of desire.

 _"If there's any possibility that I may visit this city again, then I challenge you to a duel. I wish to speak with you head-on, to within an inch of my life,"_ she had said to Heiwajima Shizuo, full of pride. _"To actually experience the joy of existing in this world... that is my desire."_

So she had said, yet she had failed. She was still nothing more than an ignorant child, corrupted by her foolish desires, by the blood on her hands. She was truly nothing more than a bloodthirsty monster in her own eyes, and she assumed that would never change.

 _It was fun._

 _It was fun._

 _It was fun._

So it had been, but things would never be the same again. She was weak, and she didn't deserve to live.

She didn't deserve to face Heiwajima Shizuo, the epitome of the very strength she wished to test.

Instead, she had aimed her gun at Orihara Izaya. She was too naive to understand why she so desperately wanted to kill him. Perhaps she subconsciously thought she could prove herself, redeem herself in Shizuo's eyes by killing him, after stopping him from doing so himself. She refused to let him become a murderer, and she had long since had her hands bloodied. She had to be the one to do this. Perhaps if she killed Izaya, she would start to feel pleasure in her life once again. Perhaps she could return to living a normal life with Shizuo and Tom, as selfish as she believed that sentiment to be. One final kill to end it all. Her mind was completely blank as she stared her enemy down, emotionless as she moved to pull the trigger.

As soon as Shizuo opened his mouth, she realized just how wrong she was.

 _"He's not an enemy."_

She couldn't bring herself to comprehend this; after all, Shizuo hadn't given her a clear answer aside from that.

 _"You have always hated each other, have you not?"_

Their smiles told her absolutely nothing.

Varona knew many things, but there was one thing she had yet to bring herself to understand: love. Because of this, Shizuo's actions would continue to stump her; haunt her, even. She had to wonder, what had happened to him in the time she was gone? It almost pained her to think about. There was something different about him, and how she hated it.

How she hated it, for she could not change in the same way.

 _"To actually experience the joy of existing in this world... that is my desire."_

It was nothing more than a childish dream for a childish girl.

Nastasya Voronin could never experience the joy of existing, not after all the atrocities she had committed. Joy wasn't a thing that could exist in her world, for hers was one of nothing but the blood on her hands, the rush of adrenaline she experienced with each stab wound, each gunshot, every punch and kick. From the moment she murdered the man who had broken into her house as a child, her fate had been sealed. She couldn't stop.

She began to count, as time went on. This number would be the indicator of her strength, the proof that she had something to live for.

 _One._ Electrocuted in a bathtub. _Two._ Stab wound to the chest. _Three._ Shot in the head from behind.

The number could only get higher. When she reached the hideout of the gang opposing her father, she almost couldn't keep track.

 _Seven._ Gunshot. Eight. Gunshot. Nine gunshot _ten_ gunshot _eleven_ gunshot _twelve_ gunshot. _Thirteen._ Stab. _Fourteen_ stab _fifteen_ stab. _Sixteen._ Gunshot. _Seventeen._ Gunshot.

It had reached forty-seven by the time she was done. She was only fifteen years old.

Now, at twenty-two, the body count had more than tripled.

When she was younger, it had been nothing more than a game. That number was her strength. It was the amount of people she had overcome, and it could only grow. She'd continue to grow stronger; that was what she thought. When she ran away to Japan almost three years prior, everything changed, and it had only gone downhill since. She realized for the first time just how dangerous that number was, that it could never represent her strength.

That she was weak.

That she didn't deserve to live.

When she returned to Russia, she thought she could make amends; both with her father and herself. She would finally understand why she had only ever seen her father's back, why he had hugged her that night she had made her first kill, why he had slapped her after killing forty of his enemies. She could grow to find peace with herself, and live a normal life. She could return to Ikebukuro and face Shizuo with pride. She would challenge him to a duel as she promised, but not to the death. She'd test him, she'd test herself.

Her father's back remained the only thing she could see.

She couldn't take it, and so she became a living contradiction. Sloan had called her a fighting addict, and it was true. She was obsessed with the adrenaline rush, the impact, the satisfaction, but it wasn't something she needed any longer. She could fight without killing; she just had to learn how. She could live in Ikebukuro, at peace with herself and her actions. She could live a normal life.

But she couldn't.

 _I do not deserve to live._

 _What reason is there for my existence?_

 _I desired to test human strength, but what is strength?_

 _Why can I not find the answer?_

Cold hands wrapped around her neck, digging into skin, clawing away at any and all points that could end her life, just like that. As she began to choke, her grip tightened. She grunted, cried, screamed without making a sound, yet her breathing would not stop.

 _Why?_ She wanted to scream. _Why could I take the lives of so many others, yet I am incapable of taking my own?_

Her hands fell to her lap as she gasped for air. Her breathing was ragged from the suffocation, not only from her own hands, but from her tears, filled with nothing but pure anger and shame.

 _"Since I'm your senpai, it's okay to lean on me a little."_

Ikebukuro appeared in her mind then, as Shizuo's words from what felt like so long ago returned. She remembered how she had acted without thinking, how she rushed to protect _him_ of all people, how she had vowed to return home and make things right.

 _"I challenge you to a duel."_

She would return to Ikebukuro in the following days, and Heiwajima Shizuo would be the one to kill her.

Everything stopped when she arrived at the airport, and again when she reluctantly followed Shizuo and Orihara Izaya to Russia Sushi.

 _"We'd be glad to have you back."_

She didn't deserve this, she told herself. She didn't deserve this, but there was a glimmer of hope in her violet eyes.

 _"I'm sure Shizuo and Tom could use some help."_

 _"I wouldn't want to bother you."_ _Do not accept me once more._

 _"We'd be glad to have you back."_

She couldn't face him as he smiled at her as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn't tried to kill both of the men sitting beside her. As if she hadn't kidnapped an innocent child caught up in a mess out of her control. As if she hadn't killed one-hundred and seventy-six people in her twenty-two years of life.

 _"I cannot accept this."_

 _"Take a chance, Nastasya."_

Izaya's sudden use of her mother tongue had startled her, though she didn't have enough time to wonder why or how he had learned it.

 _"How do you know that name?"_

 _"I did my research on you. I am an informant, after all."_

There was no malice in his words. In fact, he seemed genuine, something she had yet to observe in any of their prior meetings. His sincerity, mixed with the glimmer of hope in Shizuo's eyes left her with no chance. She truly was selfish.

 _"I would most be grateful to work alongside you once more, Shizuo-senpai."_

So she had said, yet she had been avoiding him ever since. He didn't seem to want to avoid her, however.

"Varona?" He had called from the other side of her apartment door after knocking rather lightly. She probably wouldn't have heard him had she not been in the living room, lounged around surrounded by stacks upon stacks of books. With a sigh, she set the book she had been reading down before gingerly maneuvering through the sea of novels in order to reach the door.

"How did you find me?" She asked plainly. "Requesting an answer."

Shizuo adjusted his sunglasses as he spoke. "Izaya tracked you down, sorry. I tried to tell him not to, but I've been worried about you."

With a frown, she asked, "Worried? What reason do you have for concern?"

"Well," Shizuo drawled. "You said you were gonna start working with us again, but..."

Him trailing off created an awkward silence as neither he nor Varona had the words to continue. He tried to meet her gaze, though her unnaturally quick reflexes allowed her to look away before he had even turned his head.

"I do not think that is a good idea," Varona finally said, still averting her eyes.

"Varona..." Shizuo sighed, crestfallen, before hesitantly reaching out to touch her shoulder. She flinched at the touch, though she did not push him away. "It's okay."

The sheer anger that manifested as her face contorted was undeniable. She wasn't trying to hide any more. "Do not patronize me," she snapped, Shizuo withdrawing his hand as she did so. "It is not okay."

"Don't you want to come back?" Shizuo dared to smile as he posed his question, and Varona could only falter. "It was all over your face that day."

"What I desire does not matter."

Shizuo was silent in thought for a moment before asking, "Hey, what did Izaya say to you?"

Varona's eyes widened. "He...told me to take a chance."

Shizuo's pleased smile was completely unfitting, all things considered. "Why don't you?"

She didn't respond.

"Listen, I don't know all the details, but I know something's holding you back," Shizuo continued, crossing his arms. "I think you should listen to Izaya."

With that, he stepped away from the doorway and gave her a half-hearted wave as he prepared to leave. "See you tomorrow?"

She said nothing, and he was gone.

. . .

The next day, she arrived at the agency.

She didn't think she would ever forget the look on Tom's face when he saw her walk in. It was the first time anyone had looked at her like that, like she was something worth longing to see.

"Varona! You're back!" He greeted her grinning from ear to ear.

"You are awfully happy," she observed bluntly.

Tom chuckled. "We kinda missed having you around."

Varona bowed her head as she replied, "I apologize for my absence."

Tom, who clearly hadn't expected this reaction, blushed as a hint of panic crossed his mind. "Don't apologize. I'm sure you had your reasons."

"You and Shizuo-senpai are too kind," she murmured, lifting her head. Tom didn't respond - he most likely didn't know how to - allowing her to survey the lobby. Sure enough, Shizuo was nowhere in sight. "Is Shizuo-senpai not here today?"

"He's running a little late, now that you mention it," Tom commented, peeking at his watch. "He'll be here soon."

Sure enough, he arrived a few minutes later.

"Sorry I'm late," he said without preamble, bowing his head. When he looked up, Varona could tell he had yet to notice her presence until that moment, for his eyes widened once they met hers. "You're here."

Varona bowed once more, and Shizuo and Tom exchanged fond glances.

"Well," Tom said with a grin. "Let's get going."

. . .

To say that not a thing had changed in the time she had been gone would be unfair to Shizuo, but him aside, everything was exactly as it had been before. The city remained as lively as always, flooded by faces both familiar and strange, out of focus and clear as day. The unlucky perpetrators were the same as well, all bark and no bite against two of the most dangerous bodyguards Ikebukuro would ever see. Over the course of two years, Varona had become forgotten by all except the usual suspects, most of the new faces falling to victim to the same mistakes the men she had met on her first day of the job had made. She couldn't begin to comprehend how she appeared to be something worth admiring, but some of these men were persistent.

Until they saw what she was capable of, of course.

Evidently this particular man had encountered Shizuo and Tom before, but this was his first time witnessing Varona at their side. "What's a pretty girl like you doing working for these assholes?" He asked her upon opening his door and glancing between the three individually. He began to reach out to her, only for Varona to grab him by the arm and turn him around, twisting his arm in the process. He cried out as he sunk to the ground, and again as she rammed one boot into his back, forcing him to bend over on his knees.

"Requesting the money you owe," she responded simply. Beneath her, the man squirmed and bowed his head further as she put more pressure down on him.

"I-I don't h-have it!" He whimpered, frantic. "P-please, just l-let me go!"

Varona didn't falter. With her shoe still pressing down into his back, she reached over, searching for his pockets and retrieving a wallet. Inside were two credit cards, two-thousand yen in cash, and an ID, and Varona handed all but the ID over to Tom, who stashed it away in his own pockets for the time being. Varona removed her boot from the unlucky man's back, and after having a moment to regain his composure, he wasted no time attempting to attack.

"You bitch!"

Naturally, it would be in vain. With a knee to a rather unfortunate area, the man was back down on the ground. Without another word, Varona walked off, leaving an enamored Tom and stunned Shizuo behind her.

"Holy shit," Tom breathed. "I shouldn't be impressed, but...she sure is something."

Had he been anyone but Shizuo's boss, Shizuo might have teased him and warned him to not try and flirt with her in his horrifically broken Russian again.

Thankfully that was the last incident of the day, and the trio could carry on with business as usual. On the walk to their next victim's home, however, Varona paused, turning to face Shizuo.

"There is something different about you, Shizuo-senpai," she began, expressionless in spite of everything. "I have been the only one to initiate any attacks today. It is almost as if you do not wish to fight. Please confirm or deny my hypothesis."

"I guess I've just gotten a lot better at controlling my temper," Shizuo replied with a smile.

Varona raised her eyebrows before murmuring to herself, "Interesting."

"Good interesting, or bad interesting?"

"It is neither good nor bad. It is simply interesting," Varona deadpanned before turning around once more, resuming her walk ahead of her companions. Shizuo raised a brow, earning a shrug from Tom before they decided to follow her. All was silent as they reached the city's outskirts, save for a stray car passing by here and there, and the sound of a dog barking in the distance. Without stopping again, Varona decided to continue. "I would like to see you fight again." A pause. "No, I would like to fight you."

Shizuo halted. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"You relayed to me that you have become much better at controlling your temper, therefore better at controlling your power, correct?" Varona inquired, not missing a beat. "I am not seeing a problem."

"I have, but I wouldn't want to hurt you," Shizuo responded, quiet yet firm. "Just in case."

Varona scowled. "What a foolish sentiment," she murmured, finally stopping and meeting his gaze once more. "We have fought before."

"That was different."

"Negative. I am still the same person I was then."

Fearful, Tom glanced between the two and opened his mouth, ready to say something to calm them both down, though Shizuo interjected.

"I'm not going to fight you."

Varona stepped closer to him, glaring up into his solemn eyes, forcing him to make eye contact with the intensity of her own. Brazenly, she proclaimed, "I want you to destroy me."

In the moment that Shizuo held her gaze, she noticed his eyes widen in fear just before he pried them away, staring at anything and everything he could aside from her. Tom reached out and put a hand on each of their shoulders, letting out a soft sigh. "On that note, let's get going. We still have work to do."

That being said, Tom forced himself in between the two, keeping himself in the middle as they continued onward. Varona persisted with her head held high, as if she hadn't just told someone who considered her a friend that she wanted him to kill her. It meant nothing to her, but in that moment, it meant the world to Shizuo. He had to bite his tongue as they carried on, hyper aware of his thoughts and actions. He appeared as if he were to combust, but that wasn't something Varona would see.

They didn't talk again until their shift ended. Night fell upon the city, blanketing it in layers of both darkness and the light of nightlife. People flooded the streets, surrounding the eclectic trio and making it near impossible for two thirds of the party to reignite their earlier argument in peace. Shizuo had to lead Varona aside in order to finally give her his answer.

"I'll do it."

A hint of smile tugged at Varona's lips, but her hope soon shattered as Shizuo continued. "On one condition: I won't destroy you."

"But-" Varona started, and Shizuo wasted no time interrupting her.

"Actually, two conditions. I won't destroy you, and whoever wins has to treat the other to dessert. Tom-san excluded."

Tom let out a sigh of relief.

Varona frowned. "The winner has already been predetermined. It cannot be anyone but you."

"Remember how I told you that I admired you?" Shizuo asked, allowing himself to lean against the side of the building they were beside, at ease despite the situation. "I meant what I said. You have an admirable technique. You're actually trained. Me? I just get lucky." With a weak chuckle he added, "I'm not exactly that smart when it comes to fighting, but you..."

"I am foolish."

Shizuo chuckled in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

No response.

Shizuo absentmindedly played with the stray strands of his hair as he continued. "Let's just try it out. You might surprise yourself."

"Fine," Varona muttered, defeated. "I accept your challenge."

The smile that appeared on his face then was enough to disgust her. She wanted to cry out, _Why? Why does this please you so much?_ but she could only suffocate in the silence.

"Alright," Shizuo said, filling the void that Varona couldn't fill. "Tomorrow morning, West-Gate park, an hour before work starts."

Varona simply nodded.

Tom groaned, both from general exhaustion and because these two would certainly be the death of him. (Not that it would stop him from tagging along.)

The three finally parted ways for the night, mostly due to Tom insisting on it, and Varona soon found the solace of her apartment once more. Cautiously she traipsed through the sea of books that awaited her in order to get to the kitchen. She had a decent amount of food ready to eat, though she couldn't help but crave strawberry cake, specifically from the bakery that she and Shizuo had once frequented. At that point, she couldn't get him off her mind. She couldn't begin to wrap her head around why he continued to treat her as if nothing had happened. It was what she had longed for, yet it pained her.

The anticipation for their duel kept her awake for most of the night, until she eventually passed out on her couch with a book resting on her stomach. Somehow she managed to wake up in time without the help of an alarm. With a long yawn forcing her eyes shut, she blindly walked from the couch to her dresser, trading her t-shirt and leggings for her rider suit. Perhaps if Shizuo had seen her in that suit, he'd remember the rage that engulfed him as she launched a knife into his chest, or the betrayal he felt as he saw her riding off with the severed head of his close friend.

His expression did not change.

West-Gate Park was deserted, save for the two of them, with Tom sitting on the sidelines, both out of curiosity and just in case.

One hour remained until her demise.

She hoped.

When she got close enough to Shizuo, he asked her, "Ready?"

"What a foolish question," she replied blankly, moving into position.

Smiling, rather weakly, he clarified with her, "You don't have any weapons, do you?"

She shook her head.

"Alright," he said, mostly to himself. The park benches would live to see another day - not that he planned on using them for this fight. As Varona did, he took several steps back, watching, waiting.

"Fifty-seven minutes," Tom called out to them.

Varona was the first to move. It was unsurprising, both because her movements were always swift, and because she wanted this to be over. She'd provoke him, test him, and end it all. And so, her fist met his face first.

 _Aim for the eyes._ She remembered herself thinking back when they had fought in the back of the truck what seemed like decades ago. Once again, Shizuo triumphed. He barely budged from the impact, and without a sound he latched onto her arm with enough force to toss her aside, throwing her off balance, but with enough restraint to not send her far.

"You're holding back," she spat, storming towards him and grabbing him by the bow tie, yanking him down to her level. "Did I not make it clear that I wanted to see your full power?"

Shizuo cleared his throat, longing to respond, but he didn't have the words - or the chance. Varona, rather foolishly, smashed their foreheads together. Once again, Shizuo was as still as a statue as Varona stumbled backward, her hand instantly reaching for her head, as if her touch could dull the pain.

In a move all too different from his signature style, Shizuo mirrored Varona's move from the day before, grasping her by the arm and turning her so her back was to him. Instead of knocking her down, however, he held her in a position reminiscent of a chokehold, refusing to let go. Despite the roughness of it all, gingerly he asked, "Why do you want to lose?"

Varona's response came as a grunt as she attempted to escape, though Shizuo's grip was far too tight, even as he restricted himself.

"Why are you acting like an idiot?" He persisted. "You're one of the smartest people and best fighters I know."

"I am ignorant," she said in a low growl, fighting to speak.

Shizuo ignored her. "Why are you trying to destroy yourself?"

"Because my existence is meaningless!"

Shizuo warily released her, though against his expectations, she did not resume the fight. Instead, he witnessed only the wrath, and the pain, burning in her eyes.

"I existed as a weapon," she began, voice trembling with anger. "All I could do was kill. Then, I learned of something more. I learned of this city, of working alongside you and Tanaka-senpai, of living a life of normalcy."

"Varona-"

"But I cannot live that way," she spat. "I cannot change anything. I can only kill, and if I cannot kill you, then my existence has become negated."

"Why do you need to prove your existence?"

Both Tom speaking up and the words he said sent a shiver down her spine.

"As far as I'm concerned, you don't need a reason to live," he continued with a shrug. "You just do."

Shizuo smiled as he spoke. "You're not weak, Varona. Hell, if you were weak because you wanted to live a normal life, I'd be the weakest person around."

Varona could only frown, until she remembered.

 _Take a chance._

"Perhaps you are right," she murmured, crossing her arms.

Tom let out a sigh of relief. "Now that that's over with... who's up for breakfast? We still have some time."

"I request that we go to the bakery," Varona declared.

"Cake for breakfast?" Tom asked in disbelief.

Shizuo shrugged. "Why not?"

"You two are crazy."

Varona supposed she smiled as she followed after the two of them.

. . .

"Fancy seeing you here."

His voice alone was enough to activate her fight or flight response, the one which she would choose clear as day, though she didn't act on her impulses. Instead, she simply turned in the direction of his voice, meeting him with a blank stare. "Orihara. I could say the same for you."

Izaya's expression drew a thin line between a smile and a smirk. Its presence was taunting, but even after only having met him sparingly before, she could tell that something about the curve of his lips was different. She had noticed it the last time, and she supposed that perhaps there was a lingering fear in that smile as well. "Off day today?" He asked, resting his hands in his jacket pocket. "You're the last person I expected to take off days. Well, aside from Shizu-chan, of course."

"What I am doing is none of your concern," she responded flatly.

There was that familiar, devilish grin. "Cold as ever, I see. Forgive me for taking an interest."

Varona raised a brow in question. "And why have you taken an interest in me?"

"Pure curiosity," he responded with a shrug. "You're a strange human being, Nastasya Voronin."

Varona bit her lip at the use of her given name, and it wasn't something Izaya missed.

"What is it about that name that you hate so much?"

"It is none of your concern."

Izaya let out a brief, half-hearted laugh. "Humor me, will you?"

"If you want me to humor you, then I suppose I can," Varona said, managing a smile. "I suppose I have to thank you for something, as much as I would rather not."

"Interesting."

"Interesting indeed," she echoed without a hint of the pride that he had expressed himself. "Do not take this the wrong way. I don't intend on getting along with you. You're a despicable man."

Izaya chuckled. "I suppose that's fair."

"However," Varona resumed. "I should thank you. Without your words, I might have died. Whether or not that is a good thing, I've yet to determine, but I believe I can grow from this."

"That's the spirit," Izaya crooned in an almost-sarcastic manner, though he was clearly pleased by this development.

Varona's only response was a scowl, prompting him to continue.

"Well, enjoy your rebirth, Varona."

With that, he was gone. Varona would never know that he might have apologized in that moment as well, if not for desperately clinging to what was left of his pride, for after all, without her taking action that fateful night, he would have been dead himself.

Though, she did try to kill him again, so had she known of his desire to thank her, she might have understood his hesitation.

Second chances, she realized, were a powerful thing.

* * *

 **author's note**

Forgive me in advance for a really long AN, but, per usual, I have a lot to say.

So. Obviously, this isn't the Shinra chapter that was promised. I'm in a state of self-doubt right now, and who knows, I might get over it tomorrow, or not for another two months. It's hard telling with me. Originally I was going to wait to post this for the date I had set but I might combust if I don't publish something today, so here we are, since I like this one shot at the moment and it's the only other thing I have written in full.

It might be stupid of me to make such a big deal out of doubt that came back almost out of nowhere, but my goal is to put out my best work. I've gotten a lot better at writing faster (five fics in five months would've been impossible for me literally any time before november) but the quality of my work hasn't really changed at all. I know, it's only been a few months, and I'm my own worst critic, but I want to take some time to focus on improving. For all I know I could be hit with inspiration and come back next week as planned; we'll just have to wait and see.

Anyway! I told you all I wasn't done exploring Varona's character, and I still have a lot more to delve into! I'd love to see more of her with Shizuo and Tom, and Izaya as well. I want to see her grow more, and I hope some of you feel the same way. She's my second favorite (Shizuo being first, surprising no one) so naturally I want to write a lot for her.

One thing I want to stress is that Varona doesn't hate herself for being a killer. I know it might come across that way, but the only reason she drove herself to her lowest was because she couldn't stand what she saw as weakness. She's always understood that she's a horrible person, and because of that she sees her desire to reform as being weak, among other things. When I wrote that she wanted to redeem herself in Shizuo's eyes, I was referring to how Shizuo now understood her true nature, and how he saw her as the one who didn't let him kill Izaya, and she wanted to change that. I feel like her arguments with Shizuo might come across as too overdramatic, and that's the point. As Drakon and Lingerin said, Varona might be highly intelligent and skilled, but mentally, she's still a child. She's lived her life in apathy and most likely didn't begin to experience this self-hatred until the aftermath of her fight with Akabayashi. That was the spark, among other events from the rest of the series, and one by one she continued to bottle them up. She's seething, and she has no idea how to deal with it because she's never had to before, which is why she practically explodes when Shizuo calls her out.

While I'm here; Unknown! There is definitely a ton of Namirona coming in the future. I'm so happy to see someone else interested in it, since it's possibly the rarest rarepair to ever rarepair, especially in this fandom. Count on me to provide the f/f content we so desperately need!

Thank you so much for reading this chapter and this incredibly long ramble. Your support truly means the world to me. (insert heart ff formatting won't let me put here) I'll hopefully see you soon. I have so much I want to share with you all, and I'll hopefully be able to in time.


	4. lovey-dovey prattles (shinra)

**lovey-dovey prattles of an underground doctor**

 _"it was strange how he attracted so many people when he only ever had eyes for one."_

* * *

Kishitani Shinra had spent far too much of his life wishing for his two best friends to get along.

In the beginning, it had been hopeless. In less than a minute, Heiwajima Shizuo and Orihara Izaya had taught themselves how to hate each other, and he could be the one to take the blame. He wasn't a meddler; at least, not in the way Izaya was. He was no stranger to pulling the strings here and there to get what he wanted, though more often than not, he was the one getting his strings pulled. After this incident, Shinra would become nothing more than a puppet, and he was completely okay with this. He would have no role in the relationship between the two of them; he would simply stand on the sidelines and assist either, or both, when necessary.

After all, at that point, he had spent eleven years believing that he needed nothing more than the company of a mystical Dullahan by the name of Celty Sturluson. He would continue to believe this for years, and he had no reason to desire otherwise. After twenty years, Celty had accepted his selfish love, and after twenty-three, Shinra's lifelong dream of marrying her had finally come true. He couldn't have been happier.

However, somewhere between those two milestones, something had changed.

Two months following Izaya's disappearance, Shizuo visited him, marking their first meeting since Shizuo had flung him into the air after his beloved, acting on his selfish whims once again.

 _"Hey, Shinra."_

 _"What is it?"_

 _"Have you… heard from Izaya at all?"_

 _"Orihara-kun?"_ He echoed, struggling to make sense of it all. He couldn't even bring himself to joke about it. _"I haven't."_

 _"Do you think he's…"_

 _"Who knows?"_ He had replied with a forlorn smile.

When he was fifteen, he had confidently told Izaya that if either he or Shizuo killed the other, he would simply have one less friend. Then, it didn't matter to him. It couldn't. Shizuo and Izaya were disposable, after all. Going by his own logic, he had no reason to care about what happened to either of them. He could simply keep up appearances as a supportive friend to please the one he truly loved. He had been blinded by his love for Celty to the point that no one else belonged in his life.

No one else belonged, yet he found himself drawing others to him. Naturally, one of these others was Izaya.

In a way, Shinra and Izaya were two sides of the same coin. They were all talk, yet it was as if no words were spoken. They kept their distance, even from each other, per Izaya's unspoken request. It hadn't taken a young Shinra long at all to unravel Izaya's web of lies and see the fragile soul hidden beneath it all. He reasoned he might have been the only person ever able to do so. After all, he could understand him. Neither were willing to step outside of their comfort zone and abandon the only love they allowed themselves to have.

Shinra had Celty, and Izaya had all of humanity.

That is, until someone in particular became more than just another human.

"Well, I'm happy things finally worked out for you," Shinra said, smiling at his friend from across the table. The image of it all was strange for the two of them, as they sat alone in a rather deserted cafe, absentmindedly dawdling and downing far too much coffee. It was a rare sight, to see the two both abandoned by their lovers, leaving them to find solace in one another. It was strange, but it was almost reminiscent of how things had been before, when it had just been the two of them all those years ago.

Izaya seemed to roll his eyes at Shinra's sentiment, prompting him to continue. "I'll admit, I felt a little guilty back in the day."

His words would have cut like a knife for anyone else, but Izaya wasn't anyone. If Shinra knew anything about Orihara Izaya, it was that one of his hobbies was messing with Shinra above anyone else. Save for Shizuo. Granted, more of his sly remarks seemed geared at Shinra these days, not that it hadn't always been that way.

"What do you mean?"

He also knew all too well that Izaya was far too stubborn. He might have become somewhat of a masochist when it came to being reminded of his mistakes, but not when it involved Shinra. The direction Shinra was steering this conversation in was surely ripping Izaya apart, and Shinra was enjoying every second of it.

Without a hint of remorse, he plainly replied, "Well, you were head over heels for me, weren't you?"

Kindness wasn't one of Shinra's virtues. If Celty was yin and he was yang, she was kind and he was not.

"Don't flatter yourself," Izaya replied bluntly, though still desperately clinging to the facade he didn't have to maintain, not around Shinra. They both knew it was pointless to keep up appearances. Their twisted, one-sided relationship was their precious secret, one of many, that should have been left behind, but Shinra reasoned it was his job to become the bully in Izaya's days of attempted reformation. Almost every word that came out of his mouth was fatal, he had come to realize. He might have felt some sort of pity seeing as Izaya was genuinely trying to become better - hell, he had planned his and Celty's wedding, of all things - but in a way, it was payback.

The two of them had grown considerably since they had first met, but both were petty children at heart.

"You don't have to play dumb with me, Izaya-kun." Gray eyes met carmine, and the mischievous glint in Shinra's was unmistakable as he added insult to injury. Izaya's expression screamed, _Damn you,_ though he simply laughed.

"I really wish you'd go back to calling me Orihara-kun."

"Liar."

With a frown, Izaya shot back, "You are aware that I don't have feelings for you, right?"

"Not anymore, yes," Shinra said, clearly pleased. "That doesn't change anything."

He was right. No matter how much either of them wanted to change the past, the fact still stood: Orihara Izaya had fallen for Kishitani Shinra. Izaya could proclaim that every kiss between them was nothing more than a test, and though Shinra could act oblivious, he wasn't stupid. Fortunately, it hadn't lasted long, and was back in the past.

Mostly.

Izaya's phone buzzed, garnering the attention of the duo as he checked his messages. Without looking up he said with a hint of a smile, "It's Shizu-chan. Go figure."

"Well, I'll let you run on back to him," Shinra sighed, collapsing against the back of his chair. (The two had a certain flair for dramatics as well.)

Izaya met his gaze over his phone. "Actually, I think I'll stay with you a little longer."

"Really?" Shinra asked, not so much as a question but as an intrigued comment.

He had always been fond of Izaya, but he quite liked the person he was becoming.

. . .

No matter how much he cared for Izaya, or anyone for that matter, no one could overcome Shinra's love for Celty. Even after all this time, Shinra was still entranced by her in the exact same way he had been that fateful day. She was an ethereal goddess who could run the world, yet she found her peace in the comfy, cozy apartment the two of them had shared for so long. Shinra never failed to step back and admire just how amazing the woman he could call his wife was, inside and out.

Celty had been lying on the couch when he returned, and she had immediately sat up upon seeing him, enthusiastically typing away on her PDA. Unfortunately for her, he was stuck in a trance for a moment, and it took her shadows reaching out to pinch his cheek to bring him back to reality.

"Ah, sorry. You're just so beautiful that I can't help but get distracted."

Celty's shoulders sagged as she typed a response. [You're so sappy.]

Shinra grinned as he took a seat beside her, leaving enough space between them for their hands to touch. "I won't apologize, you know."

Celty appeared to shake the head she didn't have in disappointment, though despite this, she leaned against him, resting her neck against his shoulder. Shinra responded by wrapping an arm around her, seemingly innocently, though it didn't take long for him to attempt to reach for her chest. If she could frown, she certainly would have, though she instead wrapped her shadows around him, poking and prodding at him. He yelped in protest and quickly returned his arm to his side, pouting like a child. [Patience is a virtue.]

With a weak chuckle, he responded. "Sorry, Celty."

[So, how was Izaya?]

"He was certainly Izaya."

The disappointment radiating from Celty was unmistakable.

"He might have a bit of a wounded ego right about now, but he's doing alright," Shinra replied seriously, adjusting his crooked glasses following Celty's assault. "It's kind of cute how he gets so lonely so easily."

Celty shivered beside him, and with shaky hands typed her reply. [Please never call anything about him cute ever again.]

"Got it," Shinra laughed. "How about this...how was the job?"

[Don't even get me started. I need to relax for a bit.]

Shinra's eyes glinted at that, and Celty instantly began typing again. He braced for a lecture, though instead he got, [You're hopeless.]

"You love that about me though, don't you?"

[Yeah, I guess I do.]

Much to his surprise, Celty was the one to take him by the hand.

. . .

He couldn't sleep that night. No matter how many times he tossed and turned, he just couldn't allow his mind to fade away. Not that he was complaining. He had given up on flipping sides every few seconds, resting on his shoulder so that he could face a slumbering Celty. The smoke flowing from her neck was slow; soft like her breathing, signaling sweet dreams, Shinra hoped. She had been plagued by nightmares lately, which was strange. Before, all of her nightmares had been about her head, but she had given up on pursuing it, deciding that she could be happy with the memories she had made in Ikebukuro. Shinra hadn't pried, but he had to wonder just what was on her mind. After all, his purpose in life was supporting her with everything he had.

For now, he could simply gaze at her in all her glory, her pale skin glowing in the faint moonlight. He traced the curves of her body visible from underneath the sheets in his mind, desperately wanting to hold her close. Perhaps he was hopeless.

After some time, Celty stirred beside him and upon noticing he was still awake, she propped herself up on her shoulder, reaching for her PDA. She began to type rather sluggishly considering she had just woken up, and her smoke flowed slowly, softly. She was just so cute sometimes, Shinra mused to himself.

[Can't sleep?]

Shinra had to squint to read, far too lazy to reach for his glasses. With a shrug, he replied, "I don't know why. I just can't."

[Me either.]

"Well..." Shinra began. "I have been a little worried about you."

Celty's fingers hovered over the keypad as she attempted to formulate a response. [Worried? Why?]

"I've been worried about your nightmares."

The smoke from her neck flowed in a pattern that signaled her embarrassment; it became thicker and flowed faster than normal, though it wasn't out of control like when she was truly ashamed. In a way, this was a simple blush. She took a lot longer to respond than she should have, and Shinra raised his brows, questioning the truth of her statement. [They're nothing. I'm fine.]

"You know you can talk to me, Celty." His tone was gentle as he spoke, and it was enough to make Celty's smoke more erratic, bursting to form a small heart in the darkness. The covers, along with her PDA, fell as she reached out for him without warning, pulling him into an embrace. Shinra imagined what it would have been like to be able to hear her heartbeat, to feel her warmth. For now, all was silent, and she was so cold, so unlike herself.

He didn't need to be able to read to understand her feelings.

 _Just let me stay here. Please._

Without a word, he accepted her embrace, holding her close. It took some time for Celty to pull away, and when she did, she reached for her PDA, holding it out for him to see.

[I love you.]

With a warm smile, Shinra replied, "I love you, too." He leaned in once more, pressing a kiss to her neck before shifting his weight, wrapping his arms around her and lying down on his back, pulling her down with him. Celty rested her neck against his chest, the smoke coming from the gaping hole slow once more.

Neither awoke again until late that morning.

. . .

They had changed a lot in the past few years.

When he had first asked Celty to marry him, it was perhaps the most selfish thing he had ever done. He claimed for it all to be for Celty's sake, to make her happy, to make her proud, when it was nothing more than an empty lie. He kept her head away from her for so long simply because he thought she was better off without it. Celty's sole purpose in life had become searching for her head, and he had taken it away from her. The first time he had proposed, the night of the first Dollars meeting, he did it because he had wanted her to give up. He had wanted her to accept who she was now; not for her own sake, but for his. It had been all about him.

She had accepted this. So had he.

After all, he hadn't changed a bit since they had first met. Shinra was eager to please, and so he hung on Celty's every word, doing as much as he could to keep her mind at ease. He started a club, he made a friend, he protected said friend because he thought Celty would approve; everything he did was, in his mind, for his love, but everyone, especially Celty, could see that it was the exact opposite.

Kishitani Shinra was a selfish man, yet she still loved him. She was perhaps the kindest soul Ikebukuro would ever see.

So when she broke down, everything surrounding her and Shinra shattered.

They were on vacation in America when it had happened. Darkness exploded from Celty's neck, rapidly flooding their hotel room, creeping towards Shinra, forcing him to keep his back against the wall with nowhere to run. He could feel the anger, the hatred in the darkness. It was something he hadn't been able to sense since the night everything had changed, since he had been kidnapped by Kujiragi Kasane, since Celty manifested into nothing more than a shadow, since he severed the link between her head and her body for the final time. Celty was undeniably horrifying when she was angry. He knew in that moment that he couldn't apologize for a thing. He couldn't make any excuses.

 _Why? Why do you have to only care about me? Why do you do these things for me?_

Her words seeped out from her shadows, surrounding Shinra and trapping him further. She didn't have to type; he could hear her loud and clear.

 _Why are you so horrible, Shinra?_

She hadn't said a thing after that. It took her a moment, but when she realized just what she had done, she collapsed to the ground. Her shadows retreated, wrapping around her and creating a shadow cocoon that, this time, locked Shinra out.

With a pitiful smile, Shinra approached her, sitting down on his knees in front of the cocoon. "You're right. I am horrible."

Celty was silent.

"I won't apologize for anything, because that's not fair to you," Shinra continued, firm yet soft.

To think that this had been prompted by him talking about Izaya. Izaya, who Celty, of all people, should have agreed with his sentiment towards. She wouldn't go as far to say that she hated him, but she wasn't subtle about her distaste for the man. Yet, when it came down to there being a possibility that Izaya was dead, she had snapped. Who knew how many times Shinra had gotten away with slandering Izaya until that moment. Perhaps she had been holding it in. She wasn't the type to lash out, after all. It was only when she was under intense stress that she did so. Shinra had to wonder just what else was weighing down on her mind to make her like this.

After a moment of silence, he asked, "This isn't about Orihara-kun, is it?" It was a stupid question. He already knew the answer.

Evidently Celty's voice had faded, and she had to result to forming words with her shadows. _Of course not, you idiot._

"What should I say, Celty?" He responded, crestfallen. "I want to say that I'll change for you, because I truly want to, but I suppose that just sounds like a lie, doesn't it?"

Celty hesitated. _Kind of._

With a chuckle, Shinra said, "Thanks for being honest."

 _I just want you to care._ Celty began, clearly struggling to piece together her thoughts as the letters moved around, some disappearing entirely before the sentence was formed. _I want you to care about people other than me. I want you to care about yourself._

"Care about myself?" He could have laughed.

 _This isn't healthy, Shinra._

"I really don't need anyone other than you, Celty. Not even myself," Shinra pressed on with a forced smile. "I'm okay with this."

 _You can't live like this._

The shadows that formed the cocoon cracked, disappearing into the air and revealing a pained Celty, her neck facing the ground as she too sat on her knees. She couldn't face Shinra.

He almost reached out for her, but he couldn't.

 _I think we need some time apart. I'm sorry._

And so, the Headless Rider had disappeared, and Shinra returned to Ikebukuro alone the following day.

. . .

It was so strange, being in the apartment without Celty there. He could barely remember the time before she had begun living with him and his father, and with that he realized that he had never truly been alone until that moment. He had always had Celty, and without her, he was absolutely nothing.

He laughed, laughed, laughed.

He didn't cry. He wouldn't allow himself to. Instead, he stared up at the ceiling, wondering something he couldn't quite answer, and he didn't feel that he ever could.

 _Who am I?_

It was a valid question: who was he without Celty? She was his everything, the reason he was still standing. Now, he couldn't help but crumble.

Shizuo beginning to reach out to him was perhaps both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, he had someone he could talk to, though on the other, he was a constant reminder of what had transpired between him and Celty, simply because of Izaya.

He had killed him. At least, it was a possibility. Shizuo had killed his only other friend, and though he had told himself that he wouldn't care, he had to. For years, "best friend" had been nothing more than a title for Izaya and Shizuo. He was close to them, yet not. The friendships the three of them shared was full of complications, hypocrisy, and strained emotions. It wasn't healthy, either, but it was all he had.

Slowly, he learned to become a friend for Shizuo. He owed him that much. And so, on Shizuo's off days, Shinra gladly invited him into his home, and they spent a good majority of the day together. It almost reminded him of their elementary school days, when things were so much simpler. After some time, he reasoned he didn't deserve Shizuo's company, for he had little to give in return. Despite that, Shizuo seemed pleased. His anxieties towards Izaya began to fade to the point that they could talk about him civilly. Perhaps it was that that made Shinra realize something had to be done. Hearing Shizuo talk about Izaya, his lifelong nemesis, without a hint of anger or distaste and with something of a smile set off light bulbs above his head.

 _"Do you miss him?"_ Shizuo had asked.

 _"Yeah,"_ Shinra replied, without hesitation. _"I suppose I do."_

He truly was a fool.

At night he found himself remembering Izaya. He remembered chasing after him in hopes of befriending him, the senseless club meetings, the stabbing, all the times he tended to his wounds, all the times they sat in silent understanding.

He found himself remembering every time they kissed, every time he rejected his friend's feelings.

 _"I dare you to kiss me."_

 _"What?"_

 _"I want to see what would happen. What would it take for you, someone with no interest in humanity whatsoever, to start to feel something? Could that feeling outweigh the love you have for this zombie of yours?"_

 _"Alright, I'll play along with your little game."_

It wasn't a game for Izaya. He knew that, yet he continued to tempt him, because after all, they were nothing more than two teenagers with way too much time on their hands. Teenagers that didn't understand just what love was. In a way, both of them were still learning.

He had hurt one of the people closest to him, and it took him almost ten years to be able to care.

He had missed Celty horribly until that point, but in that moment, he missed Izaya more than anything. He missed the person he was almost positive he would never see again. For the time being, he would have Shizuo. He wasn't alone, he told himself. He wouldn't let himself be alone ever again.

Well, it was more of at times, he couldn't be alone, because certain somebodies wouldn't allow him to. A few days after his return home, none other than Shingen and Emilia burst through his front door with a word, because heaven forbid anyone in the Kishitani family have common courtesy for others. He could curse his parents all he wanted, but perhaps he had needed them most then. Shingen had never exactly been the most upstanding father, though that was to be expected of a man who forced his four-year old son to help him dissect a woman. Referring to Emilia as his mother was still a strange work in progress, but he could appreciate her presence. He supposed it was nice to rely on his family for once.

"Can I ask you something, Dad?"

It took every bit of his pride to ask that. The way Shingen beamed at him only made him regret his decision even more than he did before he even made it.

"What's this? You actually care about what your dear father has to say?"

Shinra shot him a look that shut him up, briefly, and he took in a deep breath before asking, "How did you feel when my mother left?"

As he asked this, a strange feeling overtook him. Kinomiya Kaname and her absence in Shinra's life were subjects light was rarely shed on. He knew next to nothing about his mother; the only glimpses he had ever really had of her were in the similarities he and Kazane shared. Shingen never talked about her, and Shinra had never bothered to ask, even as an inquisitive child.

When Shingen didn't reply, any hint of emotion hidden by the gas mask he so faithfully wore, Shinra continued. "You loved her, didn't you?"

Shingen hesitated, and upon noticing this, Emilia slid her hand over his, facing him with a warm smile. Shinra had figured the conversation would be strained, even more so than it already was, with her in the room, but in that moment he couldn't have been more thankful for her. In a way, that image of Emilia reaching out to Shingen, silently showing her support through a simple touch, reminded him all too much of him and Celty.

"I did," Shingen finally said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. "It was rough, raising you without her. It was rough just being without her."

Despite the seriousness of it all, Shinra couldn't help but roll his eyes somewhere in the back of his mind, thinking back to all of the dissections he did as a child. He knew he couldn't judge, though. The apple didn't fall far from the tree.

"But it was for the best," Shingen added with a thoughtful glance towards Emilia.

"What do you mean?" Shinra asked. "Did something happen?"

Shingen shook his head. "It just didn't work out for us."

"You're not going to tell me to move on from Celty, are you?" He couldn't help but laugh in spite of it all.

"As much as I disagree with your marriage, I do want you to keep her around."

Several thoughts graced Shinra's mind. One was, _What, so you can dissect her again?_ Looking back, another could have been, _You officiated our wedding, Dad._ Fortunately, he was rather good at keeping his mouth shut. Sometimes. Instead, he simply raised his brows, telling Shingen all he needed to know.

"She was right, you know." Emilia speaking up caused him to flinch ever so slightly. "I think you needed this time apart, since you've never really had it before." Shingen nodded in agreement beside her.

It was strange, seeing the two of them be sensible. Well, he supposed it would be more accurate to say that it was strange to see _Shingen_ be sensible - and completely serious, at that. He wasn't one to wonder about how this conversation would play out, when he finally asked his father about Kaname, but when he did wonder, he expected Shingen to laugh it off and skirt around the issue, as he typically did.

He had gained a considerable amount of respect for his father that day.

"It will all out work out for you," Shingen concluded, and Shinra wondered if he was smiling underneath that mask.

He knew he had to have been when he carried on. "Do you want us to stay with you for a while?"

"I'm not a child, Dad."

With a lighthearted chuckle, Shingen replied. "I'm only kidding."

Hesitantly, Shinra continued. "It would be nice to see you, though."

And so Shingen and Emilia had stayed, much to Shinra's dismay. One morning, when he passed by the guest room with its door open ever so slightly, revealing his parents in their matching pajamas and gas masks, a pile of tangled limbs as Emilia snored away, blissfully unaware of how she was invading on her husband's personal space, he couldn't help but smile to himself. He wasn't a child, but perhaps he still needed them in his life.

. . .

 _"Hey, is Celty okay? I haven't heard from her at all."_

 _"She's fine."_

Shizuo had apparently grown to be able to tell when he was lying. Perhaps it was something he had picked up from Celty.

Shizuo was what finally reunited the two of them. It hadn't been said outright, but he could tell by how Celty returned the day after Shizuo had questioned him about her, and how she greeted him with (mostly) open arms. Shizuo must have told her enough to know that slowly but surely, Shinra was changing.

Now, almost two years later, he could wake up with Celty in his arms. He could hold her close, kiss her, and feel her warmth, for their love was no longer twisted.

He had become increasingly aware of just how many people he drew to him despite how he had proclaimed that he only needed Celty. Of course, it was nothing more than a lie at this point, but he liked keeping appearances. The Christmas hot pot party was his awakening to this fact. As he looked around the room, he was met with a sea of faces that comforted him with their familiarity. He had realized how he had taken these faces for granted, and with that in mind, he couldn't have been more happy to recognize Izaya among them, even if he remained more of a wallflower when he wasn't attached at the hip with Shizuo. It was accepting that he had Izaya back in his life that allowed him to open his eyes and take in the people around him. Kyohei, Erika, Walker, Saburo, Anri, Mikado, Masaomi, Saki, Shingen, Emilia...

He didn't think he had ever realized just how many people he had in his life. It was such a strange thing to realize when you had been blinded for the majority of your life. Fortunately for Shinra, his rose-colored glasses had shattered, making everything crystal clear.

As he looked out amongst the small crowd, he found himself thinking of Kujiragi Kasane. Where was she now, he wondered? Had she found the love she had been looking for in someone other than him? Had she perhaps grown to love herself? He couldn't help but wonder about the fate of this strange woman. Being the hopeless romantic he was, he had it in his heart to believe that everyone was deserving of love.

After all, he was a villain who had fallen in love with the heroine of his twisted story, and for the first time, he had more love to give.

* * *

 **author's note**

Surprise! Okay, so maybe I overreacted. I looked over this and, though I still think it could be better, I realized that it wasn't as bad as I had thought, so here we are. The style I want isn't the style that these stories I want to write need, so I guess I've grown to accept it.

I had a lot of fun writing this! Shinra has always been one of my favorites so I'm happy to finally have something focused on him. I hope I got all of my points across well enough; this does feel a little rushed in some places but I didn't want to drag it out. I know the conflict was incredibly rushed, but don't worry, I'll be addressing that later through Celty's POV. Obviously Shinra didn't just change overnight; almost three years have passed since that fight, and there's a lot to explore there. I feel like it would be better to see that growth through Celty's eyes. Sorry, I know I'm jumping back and forth between so many different things, but if I didn't I'd never get anything done, honestly.

I was going to put something out for Izaya's birthday on Friday, but I honestly lost inspiration on the particular fic. It needs a rework first, sorry Izaya. The next chapter, if I can stick to my schedule for once, will be about Anri! I haven't finished it yet, but if I had to give a release date, I'm guessing the 16th. If that changes, the new date will be on my profile as always.

Thank you so much for reading! See you next time!


	5. all that matters (raira trio)

**all that matters**

 _"change doesn't happen overnight, though they can pretend for a while longer."_

* * *

 _"Come on, Mikado!"_

A young Ryuugamine Mikado had two options. One, he could stay inside the comfort of his home and be back in bed before he knew it. It _was_ a school night, and the middle of the night at that. Two, he could sneak out his window and join an overly eager Kida Masaomi on a most likely dangerous and/or stupid mission that would surely get them in some sort of trouble.

This wasn't the first time it had happened, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. And every single time, Mikado climbed down and met Masaomi, unable to hold back a smile at his best friend's pure glee. Even if it meant getting in trouble, he'd do it a thousand times over if it meant seeing that grin.

Though, Mikado _was_ Mikado after all.

 _"Masaomi, are you sure this is a good idea?"_

 _"Of course I am!"_ Masaomi boasted, slamming his fist against his chest, resulting in an unfortunate coughing fit. _"You can't go back_ now! _C'mon, it'll be fun!"_

Maybe it was. Maybe, despite some minor hiccups along the way, Masaomi dragging him outside of his comfort zone had always been worth it. Mikado was a rather sheltered kid, not even going on school field trips, confining himself to their little old hometown in the middle of nowhere.

Maybe that was why he had followed Masaomi to Ikebukuro, because Masaomi had never steered him wrong before.

Headless fairies, color gangs, an informant with far too much time on his hands, and a man who could throw vending machines only scratched the surface of what Ikebukuro had in store for him. It was everything of his dreams, and his nightmares, and he was entranced. It didn't take long for Ikebukuro to become home, for its abnormalities to become normal.

 _"If you truly want to escape the everyday, you must constantly evolve."_

Maybe Orihara Izaya's advice for him had been the beginning of the end.

In the blink of an eye, everything had changed. Masaomi, with the yellow scarf dyed with blood around his neck. Anri, with her glowing red eyes and demonic sword in hand. Mikado, Masaomi's old friend, and newest enemy as the leader of the Dollars. Their meeting in the warehouse set in stone a chain of events no one could have foreseen, that extended far beyond the trio and engulfed the strange little city they called home.

In the beginning, things had been perfect. They were an unbreakable trio, always together, their feelings never wavering. Mikado had never imagined that they all had their own secrets, not until that moment, as he cradled Masaomi in his arms, fighting back tears at the thought of losing him, knowing that he had been oblivious to even his best friend's struggles.

And just like that, he was gone. The everyday life that had been the three of them changed, yet Ikebukuro remained the same. Still, home felt a little less like home without him there.

 _"Masaomi will come back,"_ Mikado had said. _"So when he does, let's get mad at him. Let's laugh and get really mad at him!"_

Anri smiled in reply. _"The two of us, together."_

Slowly, Mikado's conviction began to shatter. In the beginning, he was certain Masaomi would return. He had to. But it didn't take long for "when" to become "if", as the secrets the three of them shared festered, growing stronger with each passing day. _Will our lost everyday life ever return to us?_ He had to wonder. He wouldn't rest until that "if" became a "when" once again. If he could have restarted the flow of time, perhaps he would have.

Or maybe, he didn't have to. Out of the blue, Masaomi had returned. He was home, Mikado told himself. He was home, he was home, he was home.

Yet, he wasn't.

 _"Sorry, Masaomi. I want you to wait just a little longer."_

 _"Wait for what? What do you mean?"_

" _I'm almost there...I'm this close to making it. A place for you and Sonohara-san to come home to. So I want you to wait til then. I promise...that I'll save you and Sonohara-san. So until then, I think I'd be better not to see each other yet."_

In that moment, he couldn't have recognized Masaomi's fear. How ominous even his tiny giggle was at his friend's ignorance. How terrifying it must have been for the roles to be reversed; for Masaomi to now see Mikado covered in blood, to have seen him ready to kill, compared to that night in the warehouse.

He had turned the "if" to "when", and "when" to reality, but he wasn't done.

 _"Mikado...where did you get that?"_

He studied the gun in his hands with a complete lack of emotion. _"A lot's happened."_

 _"What is it you want to do? Waving around something like that... what the hell do you want to do with the Dollars?"_ Masaomi demanded, his voice cracking in desperation. _"I'm so damned pathetic! You're my friend, and I can't even tell what it is you want to do right now!"_

He understood now. The tables had turned, and now Masaomi understood Mikado's own frustration from that night, what seemed like all those years ago.

 _"Don't worry. It's not your fault, Masaomi. These are the seeds I've sown, so the Dollars ends today."_

 _"You mean you're disbanding them?"_

Mikado shrugged. _"That's not what I mean, actually. But I guess that'd be the end result? Anyway, the sight of people gathering as the Dollars one last time, what the Dollars are exactly...I wanted you and Sonohara-san to see it."_

 _"Is this what you wanted, then?"_ Masaomi asked softly.

 _"At first, it gave me more of a thrill. But not anymore. That got me thinking...that I should turn it into a place where I could welcome you and Sonohara-san. To welcome you with my head held high into the Dollars that I'd created."_

 _"Then what do you mean, it's all gonna end?"_

Masaomi froze at the mercy of the gun, but his resolve was too strong.

 _"I'm gonna drag you right back into that ordinary life you hate so much!"_

A single gunshot.

 _"You_ idiot!" Masaomi shouted, fist colliding with Mikado's face over and over again, tears streaming down his own. " _A place where we could come home to? What good would that do if you can't come back with us?"_

Mikado knew he was right, but he couldn't stop. He didn't deserve to be home with them, after everything he did. There was no cliche happy ending waiting for him; only darkness. He would have succumbed, had it not been for Celty.

But there _was_ a cliche happy ending; a happy ending that the real Ryuugamine Mikado would have fought for. Masaomi knew that. Anri had to have known as well. Ordinary, extraordinary; none of it mattered. The reality was that, as he awoke in the hospital later that day, Masaomi and Anri were there waiting. They reached their hands out to him, and he accepted without hesitation. He couldn't dwell on the matter that they were even willing to accept him. All he could do was sob. At long last, they were together, and that was all that mattered.

. . .

"I'm going back to Raira."

Masaomi watched as Mikado's face lit up, and accepted his friend's hand as he reached for him. "Masaomi, that's great!"

Uncharacteristically sheepish, Masaomi was silent for a moment, and Saki spoke in his place, startling the two as she appeared in the doorway behind them. "I'm going too."

"Saki," Masaomi leered, his voice taking one of his stranger tones for the first time in what seemed like forever. "You really shouldn't sneak up on us like that." When Saki dismissed him with a simple smile, he faced Mikado once more. "We'll have to wait until the year's over. We can be second years together, though, unlike poor Saki."

Saki shrugged. "It is what it is. It'll be a good change of pace."

Masaomi smiled and gestured for her to sit beside him, taking her hand in his as she did so.

It was almost comical how natural this was, talking about school after everything that had happened, especially when they were still seated in a hospital room. In a way, it had been how it had all started, with Masaomi inviting Mikado to join him at Raira. Masaomi couldn't get over the strangeness of it all, knowing that he would be going back after all this time, no longer in the palm of Izaya's hand; Saki, too.

In a few short months, they would just be normal high school students. No Dollars, no Yellow Scarves, no Orihara Izaya. Just the four of them, as it should be.

"Sorry I'm late!" Anri bowed her head as the three turned to face her, collectively smiling at her entrance. There was a spare chair on the opposite side of Mikado's bed, and Anri seated herself there, setting her schoolbag down beside her. Masaomi watched as Mikado turned to face her, and how she stared down at her lap, intertwining her fingers.

"How was school?" He asked casually, though Anri still jumped, just a bit.

"The same as always," she replied softly. "It's not as fun without you two there." Meeting Saki's gaze, she attempted to think of something to say, but Saki cut her off before she could.

"Don't try and apologize. It's okay."

Seeing Anri and Saki smile at one another in understanding was almost enough to let Masaomi die happy, right then and there.

This was what his daily life had become. Every day, without fail, he and Saki would visit Mikado, and once Anri was out of school, she would join them. It was almost a satisfying enough conclusion to the disaster that had taken their everyday lives by storm. Things were peaceful.

Though, they had still failed to have a proper talk.

 _Once Mikado has fully recovered,_ Masaomi would tell himself. _Then we can talk._

The cycle continued.

That wasn't to say that this was a false sense of peace that they shared. After all, change doesn't happen overnight, though they can pretend for a while longer. Just until Mikado was released. Aside from that, they were done faking, done pretending.

"Well," Masaomi began, rising from his seat and relaxing his arms behind his head. "I think we'll leave you two lovebirds alone for a bit."

Mikado and Anri exchanged glances, and their terrified expressions almost made them mirror images. "L-Lovebirds?!"

 _They really are perfect for each other._

Without another word, Masaomi twirled around out of the room, Saki following close behind, closing the door as she left. Masaomi waited for her not far ahead, and gingerly intertwined their fingers before they exited the hospital, side by side.

. . .

"I want to go back to Raira," Masaomi had said; casually, as they unpacked their bags inside their brand new apartment. Saki's back was turned to him, and though she didn't face him, she did stop what she was doing.

There was a pause, and when Masaomi didn't follow up, Saki prompted, "And?"

"And...I'm a little nervous."

"That's understandable," she replied, resuming her organizing.

Masaomi blinked. "You don't think I'm being stupid?"

Saki shook her head. "It's been almost two years. Like I said, it's understandable."

"I...I'm just done running," Masaomi continued. "I'm done being a coward, but here I am anyway."

With his back now turned, Masaomi flinched as he felt arms wrap around his neck. Giggling, Saki said, almost in a whisper, "If you think it's a flaw..."

"Then fix it," he finished, managing a smile.

Saki released her hold on him, and the two sat facing one another, their belongings temporarily forgotten. "What if I go with you?"

"Really?"

With a nod, Saki replied, "Well, it'll be pretty lonely without you around. And if we're going to be fixing our flaws...well, I guess I could start with going to high school."

"We are gonna need jobs, though, especially now that we're not working for that bastard..."

Saki reached her hand out to him. "We'll figure something out."

He wasn't sure that his worries would ever disappear, but for now, he could rest easy, with his love at his side. He could only pray that the next time something happened, should there be a next time, he wouldn't run away. He wouldn't abandon Saki, or Mikado and Anri, ever again.

In the beginning, he had blamed himself. Called himself a coward. He should have returned earlier, he kept telling himself. Maybe then, Mikado wouldn't have changed. But for a while, none of that mattered.

He was home.

. . .

April came before anyone knew it. A new school year had begun at Raira Academy, and for the first time in two years, Anri, Mikado, and Masaomi were truly together again; with the addition of Saki, of course.

Finally, they could sit up on the rooftop once more as if nothing had happened, though the sentiment didn't last long.

"I believe we have a conversation to finish," Masaomi announced, plopping himself down in between Mikado and Anri. "Mikado, care to start?"

Mikado flinched, nervously twitching until Anri shot him a comforting smile. "Actually...Sonohara-san and I made a promise."

Masaomi looked towards both of them for answers, lingering on a giggling Anri. "Anri..?"

Without warning, Anri rose from her seat, inhaling and exhaling before saying in perhaps the loudest tone any of her friends had heard, "I can't believe you left us like that, Kida-kun!" Because it was Anri, however, even her anger was meek, and she, unfortunately, wasn't a gifted actress.

Soon after, Mikado joined her, placing his hands on his hips. "How dare you! We could've had this talk forever ago, but you left!"

The two exchanged glances, and laughed to themselves, leaving a dazed Masaomi caught in the middle.

"Right when we could have gotten closer," Mikado began, confident, though only for a moment. "you left. Right after we almost lost you...you left..."

Tears welled up in Mikado's eyes, and it didn't take long for Anri to find herself tearing up as well, remembering how much it had hurt some days, remembering how she had wished that they could have just talked instead of hiding. Far too choked up, Anri managed to get out, "Kida-kun, we missed you."

He would never openly admit it, but Anri knew Masaomi was a sap at heart himself, especially as he stood up and embraced his two sobbing friends, joining them in their crying.

"Don't worry. I'll never leave you again."

Laughing, Mikado replied, "You better not."

Together, the trio sat back down, and surprisingly, Anri was the first to suggest they discuss their secrets.

"I'm liking this confidence, Anri," Masaomi teased. "I didn't think it was possible, but your ero-cute levels are through the roof."

Saki and Mikado harmonized as they leered, "Masaomi..."

"My heart might belong to Saki, but I will always be able to appreciate Anri's charm," Masaomi boldly proclaimed, pressing his hand to his chest dramatically.

Anri reasoned she could always appreciate his charm as well, and it managed to get a laugh out of Saki at least.

Without preamble, Anri said, "I am one of the wielders of a demonic sword named Saika."

That got everyone's attention.

Blushing, she continued. "I did a few unsavory things with Saika...like possessing some of the members of the Yellow Scarves. That was how I found out that Kida-kun was the leader." To Masaomi directly, she said, "I was the one at the hideout that night."

"Well, the cat's out of the bag," Masaomi chuckled. "I was the leader of the Yellow Scarves, even when I knew Mikado was the leader of the Dollars. And I ran, not once, but twice. But never again. I promise."

Mikado took a moment to continue. "I...was the leader of the Dollars, and Blue Square for a while. I did terrible things, the Dollars and Blue Square did terrible things, and I don't expect any of you to forgive me. I was selfish, and got too caught up chasing the extraordinary."

Masaomi's playful demeanor vanished with the mention of the latter gang, and Anri could only imagine what him and Mikado were thinking as they faced one another. Somewhere far off in her mind was the gunshot that haunted her nevertheless.

"You all did things you aren't proud of," Saki chimed in. "But what matters is that you acknowledge those flaws and are trying to make things right."

"Saki!" Masaomi whined. "You stole our moment!"

Saki grinned. "Don't forget, I'm a part of this too."

Anri and Mikado nodded in unison, and Masaomi sighed dramatically, stuck in between them.

Things might have turned out differently, but none of them had the power to turn back time.

Anri supposed she was alright with that.

After all, people meet, and people part, and that's what makes the reunion all the more satisfying.

* * *

 **author's note**

It's been a while, huh? Sorry about that everyone… Things have been really busy for me lately, and writing has been pretty tough. I hadn't been anywhere near as inspired as I wanted to be for a while, which is why this took so long. I finally managed to get my hands on the first volume of the Re;Dollars manga now that it's out in English (finally!), and I fell in love all over again. That was really all I needed, all that passion for Durarara to come back to me.

I'll admit I was a little self indulgent with this. Fortunately I've already established that this is a divergence from SH, so I could have some artistic freedom. I would have loved for Masaomi and Saki to go back to Raira in canon! That aside, I'm definitely not done with the Raira trio (or I suppose it's the Raira quartet now!) yet! I'm trying to figure out how to rework Symbiosis, and I have a few other ideas I'd love to write. If there's anyone I wanted to get their happy ending in this series, it was the Raira trio. They need a break after everything they've been through.

Now, on the subject of updates… They probably won't be frequent for a while. Sorry, everyone. I'm going to try my best to get as much as I can out before I start school again, but I can't make any promises. I have a lot of ideas I want to write out, though, so hopefully I'll be able to finish some. Right now I have plans for Namie, Varona, the Van Gang, and the twins. I also have something planned for Ikebukuro's most dangerous couple, that should hopefully be out on the 16th...

Thank you so much for your patience over the past few months, and thank you for your continued support! I'll hopefully see you again on the 16th (maybe earlier!), but if I don't, any series updates will be on my profile as always. See you next time!


	6. unconditional love (shizaya)

**unconditional love**

 _"people meet, and people part. a look at ikebukuro's most dangerous couple, one year later."_

* * *

Any good relationship wasn't without its pointless bets.

At least, that was what made up the relationship between Heiwajima Shizuo and Orihara Izaya. The bets had been a hit ever since their first one, especially considering it had resulted in the wedding of two of their closest friends. Well, the wedding would have happened regardless, but wouldn't have been as big of a success; so Izaya said. He had changed a lot over the past few years, but if there was one thing that hadn't changed, it was his inflated ego. Izaya aside, (not really), Shizuo would have never have guessed that a simple "I love you" would have so much power, though that was before he had heard it for himself for the very first time, from a human who meant it rather than a demonic blade with a rather twisted ideal of what love was.

As time went on, the bets continued, each one far more ridiculous or simplistic than the last. Their most recent battle was simple: who would last longer, Shizuo without cigarettes, or Izaya without ootoro? Both highly addictive, and both rather big weaknesses. It would be easy, Shizuo thought. After all, he didn't smoke nearly as much as he had before he started dating Izaya, which was significantly less than he had following Izaya's disappearance.

But this was before Izaya started dropping off the grid again.

No texts, no calls; he was simply gone without a trace. It wasn't uncommon for him to be busy from time to time - Shizuo had gotten all too used to that - but for him to not even say a word? Naturally Shizuo was concerned. Not _too_ concerned, however; he had learned his lesson after the last incident.

 _"Why are you so damn concerned?"_

Izaya wasn't one to lose his temper, and his shout had silenced even himself in that moment. Shizuo could still see just how insulted he had been behind that false bravado of his.

And so, instead of obsessively calling and texting, Shizuo smoked his worries away, and of course, Izaya just so happened to catch him in the act. Ikebukuro nightlife had hit its peak as he returned home for the night, mentally exhausted from the stress of his ignorance, and of attempting to act more like the Heiwajima Shizuo that had more or less found peace with himself rather than the Heiwajima Shizuo that would destroy everything and anything in his path. With Izaya gone, it was becoming a lot easier to revert to the latter, even with Tom and Varona at his side.

After two weeks without any sort of contact, the first words Shizuo heard his boyfriend say were, "Guess I win."

Were he not Heiwajima Shizuo, he probably would've dropped dead right then and there, both from shock and an overwhelming amount of rage, because of _course_ Izaya would bring up the bet first _._ "Fucking hell!" He swore, bringing another one of his bad habits back into the spotlight. Immediately he dropped the cigarette and crushed it with his shoe, storming towards Izaya and grabbing him by the shirt collar, glaring into his guilty eyes. "Where have you been?"

Izaya chuckled weakly. "Classified, sorry."

"Oh, no." Shizuo scowled, though his grip on Izaya was loosening. "You don't get to pull that shit with me."

"Can you at least let go of me?"

He did.

"Honestly, it's not a big deal," Izaya replied, adjusting his shirt collar before sauntering past him, attempting to get a head start into Shizuo's apartment complex, though he couldn't make it through the door before Shizuo stopped him.

"You didn't say anything for _two weeks_ , and it's not a big deal?"

Izaya paused, taking a moment to inhale, exhale, and calm himself before peering over his shoulder. "Shizu-chan." _Oh no._ "You're making a scene." Without waiting for him, Izaya vanished into the building, leaving a begrudging Shizuo to follow.

"Wouldn't be making a scene if you'd just said something," he muttered under his breath as he did so.

Izaya was already sprawled out across his couch by the time he got there, and he stood in front of him, waiting for him to move his legs so he could sit down beside him. With an over dramatic groan, Izaya did so. "Are you ready to be civil now?"

"Sorry," Shizuo mumbled, his fingers heading for his hair out of habit. "You've got to understand where I'm coming from. And don't even give me that 'I can take care of myself' crap. I know you can. I just wish you'd told me _anything_."

"It wasn't any of your business," Izaya replied, and when Shizuo narrowed his eyes, Izaya held a hand up as a warning. "That sounds bad, but it really wasn't. I was trying to save you from dealing with more than you had to.

Shizuo raised his brows. "What do you mean?"

"Someone was after me again," Izaya began, pulling himself up from the slouching position he had found himself in and crossing his arms indignantly. "Between you working a lot of extra hours lately, and the incident with Kasuka, I didn't want to give you anything else to worry about."

"You're an idiot, you know that?"

"Forgive me for trying to be a decent-" Izaya stopped, completely frozen as Shizuo pulled him into his embrace. Laughing to himself, he said, "Wow, you came around quicker than I thought you would."

"I'm still mad at you."

"Of course you are," Izaya murmured, accepting his fate and leaning into Shizuo's embrace, no longer frozen. The two enjoyed the brief silence as they sat together, Izaya's head resting on Shizuo's shoulder, until he managed to pull himself away. Not facing Shizuo, he said, "I should probably head home. I'm sure you're tired."

"It's after one, you know," Shizuo pointed out. "The trains have stopped by now."

Izaya shrugged to himself. "I could always walk. It's not _that_ far, and the exercise will do me some good." Not wanting a reply, he rose from his seat, though he stopped when Shizuo caught him by the wrist.

"Just stay. Please."

"You're awfully demanding," Izaya teased, taking his seat on the couch once again. "Don't come crying to me in the morning when you're too tired to go to work."

Shizuo was silent.

. . .

Miraculously, the two managed to get a bit of sleep that night, and though Izaya had teased Shizuo for being awfully affectionate considering the circumstances, Shizuo had woken up with Izaya clinging onto him, weighed down by his head on his chest and an arm draped over his stomach. Shizuo smiled at the sight, though he knew it couldn't last much longer.

"Get up," he said quietly, though loud enough for Izaya to hopefully stir. "Some of us have to work."

Izaya made some sort of incomprehensible noise, unwilling to move from his spot.

"Izaya, seriously."

"You're not allowed to go to work today."

Shizuo snorted. "You were gone for two weeks. You don't get a say."

Izaya finally managed to pull himself together, sitting up and letting out a long yawn in protest. Drowsily, he retorted, "You lost the bet, so you owe me a favor."

"You and that damn bet!" Shizuo exclaimed, turning his back to him. "What's this favor you want?"

"I want you," Izaya said with a devilish glint in his eyes. "To be my secretary for the day."

"Huh."

Izaya sighed, falling back against the bed and closing his eyes. "You heard me."

Shizuo glanced over his shoulder, rolling his eyes when he saw Izaya's over dramatic pouting. "What about Namie-san?"

"I'm sure she'd love a day off," Izaya replied, sitting back up and scooting over towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Get dressed. We're going to Shinjuku."

 _The things I do for you._

. . .

Entering Izaya's apartment for the first time in weeks was a breath of fresh air. In a way, it had become Shizuo's home away from home. Over the past several months, he had watched it turn from a picture perfect, brand new apartment to Izaya's home. It was still picture perfect for the most part, with its sheer size, expensive furniture, and barely a thing out of place, but there were bits of Izaya everywhere. The bookshelves that he had started filling up, almost back to their former glory, the clutter that made up his work space, the filthy white board that had been written on and erased far too many times, the mess of a kitchen... It was almost more of a home for him than his own. Not that he would ever give Izaya the satisfaction of knowing that.

"Home sweet home," Izaya sighed dreamily, immediately plopping himself down at his desk and turning his computer on. Peering over his monitor, he asked a rather awkward, fumbling Shizuo, "Did you miss it here?"

"Don't be stupid."

Izaya smiled. "So, for your first task, how about you make us some breakfast?"

"You can't do that yourself?" Shizuo asked, brows raised. "I might burn the place down. Also, pretty sure this isn't a secretary's job."

"Secretary, assistant, whatever you'd like to call it," Izaya replied nonchalantly. "Believe it or not, I have a bit of a schedule."

"Uh huh," Shizuo murmured, trudging into the kitchen. As he peeked through the fridge and cabinets, he called to Izaya, "Why do you even need a secretary? You're way too stubborn to ask for help, especially from me."

"Well, after having Namie-san around for so long, I got used to the company."

Shizuo hummed in response, more or less ignoring his answer as he sifted through the fridge, only to stop. "How am I supposed to make breakfast when everything's stale?"

Izaya's only response was a chuckle.

"Asshole," Shizuo grumbled, leaving the fridge behind for a cabinet he had missed. Opening it revealed a small hoard of snacks, along with two cups of instant ramen. "Interesting," he murmured to himself, taking the cups and closing the cabinet with his elbow before approaching Izaya. "I thought cup ramen was beneath you."

"Did I say that?" Izaya asked, eyes on his computer screen.

"Yeah, when you made dinner for me that one time."

"I've made dinner for you more times than I can count."

Shizuo rolled his eyes, albeit with a smile. "I think it was the first time, actually."

Izaya was silent in thought for a moment. "That was really just a year ago, huh. It feels like it's been a lot longer."

"So, are you okay with ramen?"

"Glutton," Izaya teased. "I suppose."

With a concrete answer and now no longer fearing the demise of Izaya's apartment, or at least his kitchen, Shizuo got to work. The short time it took to "cook" the ramen didn't allow him to do it long, but his mind fixated on the realization that it had been only a year since Izaya had come back into his life. To think that it had all started with a declaration to leave each other alone, only for Izaya getting shot to whisk him away to Shizuo's apartment and kick start a painfully awkward friendship.

 _If Izaya hadn't had his ass handed to him, I probably wouldn't be here right now._ Shizuo stifled a laugh as he thought to himself. It wasn't funny, really, but something about it just _was_. To think, that if they hadn't spent that short amount of time together, things would have turned out far differently. He found his gaze wandering to his boyfriend, oblivious as he rather aggressively typed away, and he couldn't stop the wide smile tugging at his lips; until the timer for the ramen snapped him out of it, of course.

"Anything else you want me to do?" Shizuo asked as he set the cup down off to the side of Izaya's desk.

"Where was this enthusiasm earlier?"

Said enthusiasm didn't last long.

. . .

"How do you do this all day?" Shizuo asked, slumping in the chair directly across from Izaya. "It's so damn boring."

"You're not paying attention, Shizuo." Izaya's hands halted as he slid his own chair off to the side to see around his computer. "It's quite the opposite."

Shizuo shrugged. "Yeah, well, you're not the one who's been digging through files and taking notes and shit all day."

"And as I _said_ ," Izaya pressed. "You're not paying attention."

 _Monologue incoming._ Shizuo almost smiled.

"This city is full of so many different people, all with their own stories," Izaya began, gesturing for Shizuo to come over as he scooted in his chair over to the window behind him. "Do you know why I'm so fascinated with humans?"

"Because you're a freak?" Izaya shot him a look, and he raised his hands up in protest. "Take it as a compliment."

"Because I can't help it. It's human nature to want to know more about what you love, to reveal its true essence. In a way, it's what drew me to you."

"Really?"

Izaya nodded. "I'm curious, that's all. No two people are exactly the same. There are similarities, but every person is fundamentally different, from appearance, to voice, to thoughts, beliefs, desires. You can never truly be bored with a job like this, especially in Ikebukuro." Taking Shizuo's hand in his, he continued. "I think that's why I was so drawn to you, whether it was by hatred or love, or just pure curiosity. You seemed to stand against everything I believed in, but you proved me wrong. You're more human than anyone."

As much as Shizuo hated it, he couldn't fight the fact that his face was heating up. "God, you don't have notes on me, do you?"

Izaya's grin was near terrifying.

"Here we go," Shizuo muttered, bringing himself to smile as he did so.

"It's kind of scary how well your name fits you. All your life, you had been lonely, searching for a peaceful existence you believed to be unobtainable. All you wanted was to be connected to someone, yet you did nothing but keep everyone at a distance, even your family." Izaya's grip on his hand tightened. "No man is an island, but you were scared. Scared that you could only destroy. But slowly, you let people in. Shinra, Celty, Tom, Akane, Varona... myself. You started embracing parts of yourself you couldn't before: your kindness, your rather weak sense of humor-"

"Hey!"

"-and your strength. You were no longer a monster."

Shizuo was silent, eyes downcast on their intertwined fingers as he struggled to come up with a response. All he could manage to say was, "Damn."

"And that's only part of it. It's the abridged version, if you will."

" _Damn._ " Shizuo chuckled. Izaya almost seemed to be pulling his hand away, and Shizuo grasped for him, meeting him with a smile. "Okay, tell me about someone else."

"I thought you'd never ask."

. . .

After an interminable amount of time spent psychoanalyzing the people in their lives and the nameless faces that made up the background, Izaya had shut his computer down and settled in the crook of Shizuo's arm as they sat on the couch, Channel 666 news reporting distantly.

"So, have you learned anything today?"

Shizuo blinked at him. "Learned anything? Like...about people?"

"Anything at all."

Removing his arm from Izaya's waist, Shizuo leaned over towards the coffee table, grasping for a notebook Izaya had failed to notice. "Well, I took some notes."

"About...?"

"About you."

"Really." Izaya beamed. "Tell me something."

Shizuo briefly adjusted his sunglasses. "Well, for starters, you're a piece of shit, you know that?"

"And you're the absolute worst at flattery."

"Let me finish," Shizuo said, draping his free arm around him once more. "You're a piece of shit, but you're not nearly as bad as you were a year ago even. You know you screwed up, and you said you wouldn't apologize, but you're trying in your own weird way to make up for what you did. Shinra told me once that we had a lot in common, and I think I get where he's coming from now. When you were talking about me earlier, it almost sounded like you were talking about yourself."

Silence.

Shizuo dared to continue. "He also told me that you're a bastard, but your heart's just as fragile as anyone's. You get hurt just like anyone, and you want to fix things so you won't stay hurt. That's why you talked to me that day, to stop the pain, right? I think. You don't really talk about stuff like that. I just kinda assumed, since Shinra said your heart was... actually, never mind."

"Continue."

"I dunno where I'm going with this," Shizuo murmured, setting the notebook down. "I just...we were both lonely. And I guess I'm just trying to say that I'm happy I have you now, s'all. And you're kinda cute when you ramble."

"Sap."

Shizuo sighed. "I won't even fight you there. I just want to add, that I'm kinda a piece of shit too. Though I'm sure you already knew that."

Izaya's silence only proved his point.

"You know, there's something Masaomi-kun and Saki-chan used to say to each other," Izaya finally said. "If you think it's a flaw, fix it."

"If you think it's a flaw, fix it," Shizuo echoed. "I like that."

With a yawn, Izaya replied, "Well, I don't know about you, but even I need a break after today."

"Really?" Shizuo asked, laughing as he did so. Quietly, he added, "Hey, sorry I was a bit of a jerk. I had fun. Sometimes."

"No worries." Izaya leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "I guess you could call this my karma. Now we're even."

"Promise you'll tell me when your life is in danger again?"

Izaya chuckled. "'When' rather than 'if', huh."

"You're Orihara Izaya. I don't think I can expect anything else."

As he sat there with him, hand in hand, he didn't think he could've asked for anything better.

* * *

 **author's note**

I'm back with yet another long AN! It's not bad, though; today's just an important day for me and I've done a bit of reflecting.

Four years ago today, I began publishing my first ever fanfic, a Shizaya fanfic named Trial and Error. It's still my most popular fic to this day, with almost 35,000 views and 100+ followers, which is a shame because it's pretty bad. I was just a kid having fun though, so I guess I can excuse myself. Kinda. It was a lot of fun while it lasted, and though my feelings for it are...mixed...the fact still stands that I wouldn't be where I am without it. So, I decided to honor it somewhat today, as if the blatant references in Life is an Unknown Course weren't enough.

One of the main points of t&e was that Shizuo began working as Izaya's secretary, so I wanted to briefly highlight it here. I was going to add a dream sequence where Shizuo dreamed about the events of the fic, but it didn't really fit. Another minor reference is the Kasuka incident, something that technically hasn't happened yet. I might show it if I figure out what to do with it, because I do want to write something for Kasuka (and Ruri), but for now, don't really read into it that much. this is what happens when you decide to write a series completely out of order rain, sigh

Anyway, I'm gonna turn into Shizuo and be a sap for a minute. I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for every follow, every favorite, every review, and even for just reading. Your support truly means the world to me. I almost gave up on writing for good last summer, and I'm so happy I didn't. Knowing that the fandom for my favorite series of all time still lives, even just barely, and that people enjoy the stories I have to tell is what keeps me going everyday, even though it can be pretty tough some days.

Okay, one final note: updates! Simply put, I'm not going to have a schedule for a while. I'll post whenever I have something. I'm pretty inspired, though, so hopefully I can get a couple more out before I start school again. In fact, I actually published two fics today, since it also just so happens to be Varona's birthday! Hopefully you'll give that a read as well, wink wink nudge nudge

Four years later and I still don't know how to condense author's notes, sorry guys. Hopefully they'll get shorter from here on out. Hopefully. Anyway, as always, thank you for reading, and I'll see you next time!


	7. bittersweet (shizuo, namie, varona)

**bittersweet**

 _"love. i_ _myself have never loved another person. most likely, i don't even love myself. i do have knowledge of it. but i am incapable of determining whether or not it is vital to my life."_

* * *

It seemed like he was always learning something new about Varona.

He supposed it was only natural. She was a woman shrouded in mystery, and no matter how much he learned, it always felt like he didn't really know her at all. Still, the woman known only as Varona was someone he had come to consider a friend despite all of her misgivings, and he hoped she could do the same for him.

The Varona that Heiwajima Shizuo knew was strong. She was a trained fighter, a passionate fighter, and someone who had dedicated her life to her craft. Said craft was questionable at best and challenged Shizuo's morals on an almost daily basis, but Varona seemed remorseful. When she had returned to Ikebukuro, she was ashamed, believing that she had failed because of her inability to reconcile with her father, and with herself. Shizuo had seen firsthand how it had destroyed her as she shouted at him, telling him that her existence was meaningless, and that she wanted nothing more than to die by his hand, for he was someone truly strong, much unlike herself. But in his eyes, _she_ was the one who deserved that title, not him. For Shizuo, Varona only further proved this by managing to get back on her feet and find her way in the months since.

He had learned so many important things about her in the time since they had first met, and yet something so minor seemed to surprise him the most.

"Varona's birthday is coming up."

It shouldn't have been all that weird, hearing it come out of Izaya's mouth, but between the odd timing, Izaya relaying it, and said fact being something Shizuo had yet to know made it all the stranger.

"How do you know that?" Shizuo asked. He realized how redundant it was just a little too late, as Izaya had already started speaking.

"I'm an omniscient observer," he replied nonchalantly, moving to rest his head on Shizuo's shoulder.

Shizuo smiled as he ran his fingers through Izaya's hair. "Keep telling yourself that. Yagiri-san probably told you."

"Perhaps," Izaya murmured. "I just thought it'd be something you'd like to know."

Shizuo nodded. "It's a little weird, though. I know it's stupid, but I never really thought about her having a birthday."

"Well, she's not exactly the type to disclose that information, now is she?"

"I kinda want to do something for her now," Shizuo said. "Nothing big. Maybe take her out for cake or something?"

Izaya sat up and reached over for his phone. "I thought you might say that, and I thought you could enlist Namie-san's help."

"Help?"

"Well, not exactly," Izaya replied with a shrug. "I was thinking it'd be nice if she tagged along. Besides, you two met under rather strange circumstances. It might be nice to get off on the right foot this time."

Perhaps a little reluctantly, Shizuo nodded in agreement. He didn't have anything against Namie; he didn't exactly know enough about her in order to do so. Izaya talked about her in passing, and they hadn't spoken since she approached him, of all people, about his relationship with Izaya. It had been strange, but he couldn't exactly disagree with her reasoning - Izaya was quite the character. What was even stranger, however, was her newfound friendship with Izaya, though Shizuo supposed everything involving Izaya was strange. Not that he really minded. This was simply how things went in Ikebukuro.

And so, Shizuo found himself taking the train to Shinjuku as he usually did on his day off, this time with the intention of seeing Namie rather than Izaya.

Well, maybe Izaya too.

He hadn't quite expected for Namie to open the door rather than Izaya, though. Despite being rather taken aback, he managed a faint smile upon seeing her. If anything, her lack of expression only seemed to worsen once she realized who it was, greeting him with a frown. He almost doubted Izaya for a moment, though Namie bowed her head in greeting. "He already told me. Come in." Shizuo nodded as Namie stepped aside, making room for him to squeeze by.

"Good morning," Izaya greeted him from his desk, eyes glued to his screen.

"Morning," Shizuo replied, taking a seat on the couch. He glanced over at Namie, whose frown only seemed to deepen as she closed the door behind her, quickly turning her back to the two as she headed to the kitchen. Moments later she returned with two cups in hand, and she set one down in front of Shizuo before seating herself on Izaya's other couch. He didn't exactly have the heart to tell her he wasn't much of a coffee drinker.

The silence was suffocating, as Namie sipped her coffee and Shizuo might as well have twiddled his thumbs, the only noise coming from Izaya's keyboard off to the side.

Namie was the first to speak. "I'm surprised you can stand to be around her. Varona." Curious, Shizuo faced her. "The devil incarnate has told me a thing or two about you, and you getting along with an assassin doesn't add up."

Shizuo nodded, pausing for a moment before responding. "We were friends before I knew that, and I can't bring myself to turn my back on her. She's my junior."

"Rubbish," Namie scoffed. Quieter, she said, "You're even more senseless than I thought."

"Be civil, you two," Izaya called.

Shizuo smiled to himself at that. "Varona told me she tried to make amends. She's changing, and I want to believe in her."

"Not everyone can be reformed. This is the real world, not some ridiculous fairytale."

"If Izaya can change, anything is possible."

Namie froze as she reached for her coffee.

"And what about you?" Shizuo continued. "Aren't you friends with her too?"

Namie made a noise that suggested a laugh. "Yes, friends..." With a glance in Izaya's direction, she added, "Villains find company in each other."

"Villains, huh," Shizuo echoed, eyes downcast on his hands.

Before he could continue, Izaya spoke up once again. "Why don't you two get some fresh air?" When Shizuo turned to face him, he realized then that he should have expected to see that lethal smile of his, as he bit his tongue to hold back something along the lines of, _I'm trying to work, and if you two don't stop arguing I'll have to kick you both out. Yes, even you, Shizu-chan._ Shizuo looked to Namie, and Namie looked back at him, though she was far less bothered than he was. Shizuo supposed he could understand how; Namie had been Izaya's secretary for quite a while. She didn't seem like the type to give up easily. Shizuo liked to think he knew better at this point.

"It wouldn't hurt," Namie said before finishing up her coffee and heading outside, not waiting for Shizuo to catch up. Fortunately she didn't make it too far, and Shizuo matched her pace as she carried on down the sidewalk. Not facing him, she asked, "So, what did you have in mind?"

"I just thought we could take her out for cake," Shizuo said with a shrug. "There's this bakery back in 'Bukuro that she really likes. It's nothing special, but I thought it'd be nice."

"It's rather juvenile," Namie murmured. "But then again, I suppose it suits her."

Brows raised, Shizuo asked, "What makes you say that?"

"Varona's not exactly the brightest. She's still fairly young, not to mention inexperienced."

Shizuo snorted. "Not the brightest? She's probably the smartest person I know."

"That says a lot about both of your characters."

The smirk on her face might have sent shivers down Shizuo's spine had he not been accustomed to dealing with Izaya. Frowning, he said, "Listen, if you don't want to be a part of this, you don't have to. I just thought, since you like her and all-" He stopped upon noticing just how flushed Namie's face was getting.

"I never said that," she hurriedly retorted before taking a moment to compose herself. "I have been a little negative, sorry. I'd love to do something for her. I had something in mind, but..."

"What was it?"

Namie turned her head. "Nothing in particular. I just wanted to show my gratitude. She's done a lot for me lately, whether she intended to or not." She was still blushing, and Shizuo couldn't help but smile, remembering something Izaya had told him some time ago. _"Namie-san is a bit of a hopeless romantic."_

"Why don't you tell her then?"

Namie froze before whirling to face him, standing as tall as she could in her heels up against Shizuo's height. "As if!"

 _She kinda...reminds me of me._

After clearing her throat and placing her heels back flat on the ground, Namie retrieved her phone from her purse. "Text me the address. I'll meet you at the bakery." With that, she stormed on back to Izaya's apartment, leaving a bemused, and amused, Shizuo in her wake.

. . .

Namie couldn't remember the last time she had been so angry with herself, and over something so pathetic.

Well, she supposed she _could_ remember. The last time she had been so upset she wanted to self destruct had been a few months back, and despite having only been a few months, it felt as if it had been years. It had all started with Seiji's confession; the confession that she never would have expected, even as its development happened right before her eyes.

Somewhere along the way, Seiji had genuinely fallen in love with Mika.

It wasn't even that that had made her upset. Strangely, or perhaps not, she was happy. Her brother had finally found love - an _attainable_ love, that is. After years upon years of chasing after the severed head of Celty Sturluson, Seiji had given up. He had learned to cherish the girl that dedicated her life to him, finding happiness for himself and granting it to his love.

She didn't cry, and she didn't scream, but it was hard, at first. Of course, she had known all along that nothing would ever happen between her and Seiji. Her love was nothing short of impure. She knew this, but she had loved him with all of her heart, and for so long. A love that strong couldn't disappear overnight, and how she hated it. She despised how she allowed herself to succumb to such feelings, and could not look back fondly on all of the things she had done to win Seiji's heart.

She was a villain, and she had taken pride in this. In a way, she still did, though not entirely. Now, she could see the world as it truly was; that the world was more than Yagiri Seiji.

How much of herself had she forgotten? How much of herself was left to salvage?

Those weren't easy questions to answer, and rediscovering just who she was wasn't an easy task. Despite how much she loved her brother, she was an otherwise cold woman, looking down upon anything and everything that wasn't herself, or Seiji. Everything in this world was rubbish.

Though she couldn't quite call Nastasya Voronin rubbish.

The Varona that Yagiri Namie knew was ignorant. She could rattle off pointless trivia as much as she wanted, read as many books as she could, and appear as if she posed a genuine threat in combat, but she was practically a child. In the grand scheme of things, she was inexperienced, knowing so much yet so little. She had more blood on her hands than Namie would have thought possible, but it hadn't hardened her. She was ashamed, not because she was remorseful, but because she was weak. There was barely a shred of good in her, yet Namie found herself drawn to her.

To Namie, Varona was herself following Seiji's confession. She was lost, and without a sense of purpose. She was angry, and had no one to lash out at other than herself. She was a villain, plain and simple, and villains found company in each other.

After a night of wallowing in self-hatred, Namie was woken up by her phone going off beside her. For a moment she thought she was still asleep as Shizuo's name appeared on her screen, though she soon remembered.

"I'll have to block him later," she murmured, dragging herself out of bed for the day.

 _"Why don't you tell her then?"_

Shizuo's suggestion haunted her for the rest of the morning, even more so when it finally came time to head for the bakery. _Tell her I'm thankful?_ She scoffed. _I couldn't. Especially not in front of Heiwajima. All of this is ridiculous!_

"Namie-san?"

She stopped dead in her tracks, and silently cursed fate, the universe; whatever she could in that moment as she brought herself to look up.

"Varona. Fancy seeing you here."

"Shizuo-senpai informed me that you would be joining us," Varona responded plainly, expressionless as Namie flinched.

Namie said nothing as she followed Varona inside. Shizuo was easy to spot on the far side of the bakery, and Namie once again followed Varona's lead. What she hadn't been expecting was the man beside Shizuo, leaving Namie to sit beside Varona, a little too close for comfort. "I'm guessing this is your boss," she said without preamble.

"Tanaka Tom. Nice to meet you." He extended his hand across the table, and Namie reluctantly accepted. "Sorry, I was a bit of a last minute addition." With a chuckle he added, "I'm not exactly a cake person."

"I fail to understand how you cannot be," Varona murmured, her gaze both curious and threatening. It was surprisingly cute, Namie noted.

"Speaking of cake," Shizuo said as he scooted his chair back. "I'll be right back."

An uncomfortable silence washed over the group in Shizuo's absence, though he thankfully wasn't gone long. When he returned, he placed a rather large white cake in the center of the table. Adorned with strawberries and pink icing, even the ever bitter Namie couldn't deny it looked a little delicious. Her reaction was nowhere near Varona's, however. If her eyes could have sparkled in that moment, they would have. Namie hadn't known her as someone who smiled often, if at all, but she was undoubtedly pleased.

"Happy birthday," Shizuo said with a smile.

Tom chimed in with something unintelligible, and the remaining three exchanged glances. "What?" He asked, visibly hurt. "Is my Russian still that bad?"

Varona sighed. "I believe what you were trying to say is c днём рождения."

"Sdenimroshdeenya," Tom attempted to echo her pronunciation, though Varona's scowl remained fixed. Flustered, he refused to meet her gaze.

"How did you know of my birthday?" Varona asked, eager to change the subject. "Requesting an answer."

"Izaya told us," Shizuo replied, bowing his head. "Sorry. He can be a little invasive."

Varona nodded in response. "I suppose it does not matter. Another question: why do you celebrate this day?"

Shizuo shrugged. "Because we care about you. Besides, we haven't been out for cake in a while."

"That is true," Varona mumbled. "I apologize for my questions. This is simply...strange. Not once have I celebrated this day, nor anyone else."

Tom finally managed to look back, concern written all over his face. "Are you doing okay?"

Varona blinked at him. "What do you mean?"

"I've been a little worried," he continued. "I mean, just a few months you wanted Shizuo to kill you. Now we're hearing that you've never celebrated a birthday. Maybe it's not my place as your boss, maybe it is. I just worry about you."

"I do not need your concern," Varona responded, significantly less hostile than any of her company would have expected. "Your words have helped me greatly, Tanaka-senpai."

Tom raised his brows. "What did I say?"

"That a reason to live is unnecessary." That small smile of hers found its way back to her. "I must simply live."

 _That's...surprisingly good advice, coming from someone like him._ Namie thought to herself. _You don't need a reason to live. You just do._

. . .

An indeterminable amount of cake slices later, Varona was once again on her own. After spending so much time with these people that she supposed she could call friends, she almost felt lonely.

It was strange, for someone who spent their entire life alone to suddenly experience loneliness.

Naturally, her first instinct was to find comfort in her stacks upon stacks of books in the apartment she now called home. None of them were particularly helpful; it was all mindless reading, absorbing information she already knew, unable to stimulate her. Once again, reading was simply something to pass the time; something to help her forget, forget about herself.

The Varona that Nastasya Voronin knew was a loner. She was still weak, having been so her entire life. All she had was knowledge, a love for sweets, and the blood on her hands that could never be washed away. She was a fugitive, an assassin, a thrill seeker. She had become a murderer as a child, at first to save herself, then because it was the only thing that would get her father to look her way. She had killed because it had been fun; now nothing gave her that feeling. For a while, the city of Ikebukuro had. She had grown to love the city, though she was still lost, searching for the joy of truly existing in this world.

She knew all of these things, and yet she really knew nothing at all.

Some days, she had to wonder if she was really a human being, simply existing as she should. More often than not, she felt so empty, her life meaningless even in her pursuit of normalcy.

As she thought of how her day at the bakery had warmed her heart, however, she supposed it wasn't all meaningless.

 _"Because we care about you."_

Perhaps she didn't need a reason to live, but that wouldn't stop her from having something to live for.

* * *

 **author's note**

Two fics in one day? Who am I? I couldn't just let the day go by without celebrating my best girl's birthday, so happy birthday, Varona! Who would I be if I passed up an opportunity to gush about her, honestly? And also, Shizaya fans! You're in luck! Go check out Unconditional Love if you're in the mood for some good old plotless fluff.

ahem

Anyway, I know, a birthday fic that isn't primarily told from said character's POV? It's a little strange, but this way I'm killing three birds with one stone: having Shizuo and Namie meet, throwing in a bit of Namirona (don't worry, i'll be going more in depth soon), and celebrating Varona's character as a whole; the good, the bad, and everything in between. Usually my "character studies" are self-reflections, so I thought it'd be interesting to show conflicting opinions about Varona from the people around her. I guess it's not exactly a Varona birthday fic, but I at least wanted to show a little more of her on her actual birthday.

Just in case you didn't read Unconditional Love I'll put the same note here, sorry if you have already or are planning to:

I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for every follow, every favorite, every review, and even for just reading. Your support truly means the world to me. I almost gave up on writing for good last summer, and I'm so happy I didn't. Knowing that the fandom for my favorite series of all time still lives, even just barely, and that people enjoy the stories I have to tell is what keeps me going everyday, even though it can be pretty tough some days.

Okay, one final note: updates! Simply put, I'm not going to have a schedule for a while. I'll post whenever I have something. I'm pretty inspired, though, so hopefully I can get a couple more out before I start school again. To answer Unknown, I have one idea in particular that kinda goes along with that, so maybe you'll see it soon! And, on another note, I respond to member reviews through private messaging, wink wink nudge nudge. I'm not ignoring you I promise!

As always, thank you so much for reading! Feedback is greatly appreciated. I'll hopefully see you soon!


	8. unwavering thoughts (celty)

**unwavering thoughts**

 _"they both loved one another so much it would destroy them, but for completely different reasons."_

* * *

For more than twenty years, Celty Sturluson had watched Kishitani Shinra grow.

When she had first boarded the ship that would take her to Japan in search of her head, she had no idea just how intertwined her life would become with the father and son willing to assist her. There was no way of knowing just how important Shinra would become to her, someone who shouldn't have been able to grow close to anyone. As a Dullahan, a harbinger of death, Celty had only one purpose. She had no reason to develop connections with human beings when her only interactions with them were just before their death, and when she was so far removed from this concept of "humanity."

But Shinra loved her when no one else did.

From the tender age of four onward, he had been completely enamored with her. It had taken years for her to be able to grasp the concept of love. From the vague memories she retained from her life before, she was able to discern one simple thing: that love was never a part of her life. She debated on whether or not her head would hold more information, but for twenty years, it wasn't as a big of a concern as finding her head in the first place. In the beginning, Shinra was just the son of the man gracious enough to allow her to live under his roof. He was a bright-eyed, impressionable little boy that would certainly be led down the wrong path if his father had anything to say about it. Had her heart not been so cold, she might have considered taking Shinra away from Shingen.

She wasn't sure what it was, but something about Shinra stirred something inside her. How was unknown especially to her; Dullahans had no functional organs, brain included. Shinra had developed his own theories over the years, but Celty supposed her ability to feel emotions would remain a mystery until she found her head. Regardless of how she experienced them, her feelings were real, tangible. She was cold by nature, but something about Shinra warmed her heart.

He wasn't scared of her. He treated her as he would any human being, as if she wasn't this abnormal, nonhuman monster. Even as a young child, he did his best to make her feel loved. She was the first person he spoke to every morning and the last every night, always with that wide smile of his. It wasn't hard to miss how Shinra glowed whenever he was around her.

At first, she reasoned this feeling was somewhat of a maternal instinct. Shinra was strange, but it was an endearing strangeness, much unlike his father. With Shinra's mother out of the picture, perhaps she yearned to fill that role, to repay his kindness and to help him avoid going down the wrong path. For a while, she figured her influence had helped. Once he started elementary school, it didn't take him long to come home boasting about a new friend - his only friend, but a friend regardless. The stories he told were a bit of a cause for concern ("Today, Shizuo-kun threw a desk at some bullies!"), along with Shinra's reactions ("He heals so fast, too... I should do some tests!"), but for the most part, Celty supposed she was happy.

 _"Celty?"_ A young, drowsy Shinra had called to her one night, tugging on her suit made of shadows with his tiny hands. _"Promise me you'll stay with us?"_

 _It's not as if I have anywhere else to go,_ she thought to herself. Retrieving the notepad she used to communicate, she wrote, " _I'll stay as long as I can"_ before getting down on her knees, showing the note to Shinra and placing a hand on his shoulder. Though she hadn't fulfilled his promise, he still flung his arms around her, beaming despite everything.

Celty was fortunate enough to have found the Kishitanis, and she knew that kindness - tolerance, rather - wouldn't be easily found elsewhere. She supposed that, unless the memories in her head told her otherwise, then even if she were to find it, she wouldn't abandon Shinra. As much as she disliked Shingen's experiments (and everything else about him), she wouldn't mind staying.

The years began to pass like it was nothing. Back in Ireland, from what she could remember, the years had blended together and had no significance to someone hundreds, perhaps even thousands of years old. But as she watched Shinra grow up, she realized just how precious time was. From middle school to high school, from high school to his life as an underground doctor, she had watched him change in what felt like the blink of an eye. Before she knew it, it had been twenty years since she had arrived in Japan, and there was Shinra, proposing marriage.

She hadn't even considered that the strange feeling inside of her could be love until that moment.

It didn't feel like love; at least, not based off what she had learned about it. Then again, cheesy TV dramas weren't the best source of information, especially those that suited Shinra's taste. (She couldn't count the amount of times she had caught him crying when he thought he was alone, or how many times he had clung to her shoulder when they watched them together.) It didn't consume her as she thought it would. She was able to live her life normally, uninhibited by these emotions. However, love, like all aspects of humanity, was complicated and beyond her understanding. But were these concepts reserved exclusively for humans, she wondered?

 _I have the same values as a human being. I have the same heart. And my heart can find common ground with a human's. I think._

She would have been content with them carrying on as they always had, but that feeling remained.

In that moment, she couldn't have been more angry at Shinra, discovering that he had known the truth about her head yet hidden it from her for his own selfish gain.

 _[I'm not going to leave you just because I get my head back.]_

 _"That might be your desire, but it might not be your head's."_

Shinra was right, she wouldn't deny that. She knew that, yet she still wanted to stay. In twenty years, she herself had changed. She had grown to love Shinra, to love Ikebukuro, and to be possibly even more human than the people around her.

 _[You're such an idiot.]_ She relayed to Shinra as she accepted his embrace, only after he had allowed her to punch him.

If Shinra was yang and she was yin, he was selfish while she was selfless. She knew Shinra to be selfish, and still she loved him. There were so many things to love about him. He was passionate, intelligent, determined, funny, and a little odd, but Celty embraced it. The good, the bad, and everything in between; Celty accepted it wholeheartedly.

Celty Sturluson was in love with Kishitani Shinra, Kishitani Shinra was in love with Celty Sturluson, and they both loved one another so much it would destroy them, but for completely different reasons.

Their relationship wasn't healthy. Celty knew this. Shinra had proved it, time and time again. Everything he did, he did for Celty - is what he had everyone, including himself, believe.

She could only remain complacent for so long.

Celty hated Orihara Izaya; that was no secret. But knowing that he was one of Shinra's oldest friends, one of his _only_ friends, and that Shinra would dismiss him as if he meant nothing, especially when there was a probable chance that he was dead... she just couldn't take it.

"I always said I would simply have one less friend. I have you, after all!"

She became darkness itself. She hadn't intended to, but a rage she hadn't felt since that night Shinra was kidnapped, and she regained her memories, came flooding out of her. Shadows poured into the room and shot out at Shinra, backing him into the corner of the hotel room they had been staying in. Both of them had no choice but to succumb.

 _Why?_ Her desperate plea echoed throughout the room. _Why do you have to only care about me? Why do you do these things for me?_

Shinra opened his mouth to speak, but Celty's final question interrupted him.

 _Why are you so horrible, Shinra?_

Without a head, Celty had no way of crying, but the tremors in the now shapeless form of hers told both of them otherwise. She fell silent, and collapsed to the ground, her shadows returning to her and reshaping her body before wrapping her in a cocoon. She couldn't bring herself to face Shinra after that.

"You're right. I am horrible," Shinra said, his voice distorted by the barrier between them. "I won't apologize for anything, because that's not fair to you." Celty remained silent, prompting him to continue. Pointlessly, he asked, "This isn't about Orihara-kun, is it?"

With her voice gone once again, Celty resorted to forming words with her shadows on the outside of the cocoon. _Of course not, you idiot._

"What should I say, Celty?" Shinra asked softly. "I want to say that I'll change for you, because I truly want to, but I suppose that just sounds like a lie, doesn't it?"

Celty hesitated before writing her response. _Kind of._

With a chuckle, Shinra said, "Thank you for being honest."

 _I just want you to care._ Celty wrote, struggling to piece together her thoughts, evidenced as the characters moved around and changed shape, some disappearing as the sentence continued. _I want you to care about people other than me. I want you to care about yourself._

"Care about myself?" She heard a silent laugh in that pained voice of his.

 _This isn't healthy, Shinra._

"I really don't need anyone other than you, Celty. Not even myself. I'm okay with this."

 _You can't live like this._

The shadows that formed the cocoon cracked, disappearing into the air and revealing a smiling Shinra. Somehow, he could still force himself to smile in front of her, just to keep up a pointless facade. _It's okay._ She wanted to tell him. _It's okay to be upset. I said horrible things. You should be mad at me!_

She almost reached out to him, but she couldn't.

 _I think we need some time apart. I'm sorry._

And so, the Headless Rider disappeared. She walked out the door without looking back, mounted Shooter, and rode off into the night. All she did that night was drive, pushing herself farther and farther away from the one most important to her in hopes that he wouldn't, couldn't follow. For days, all she did was drive, unburdened by the lack of food and rest. In the beginning, all she could think about was Shinra. It took every bit of self control she had not to turn around and run back to him. This was something she had to do, and she refused to give in. After all, they had never had time apart before. Shinra needed this distance. _Celty_ needed this distance.

She lost herself as she drove. It was oddly freeing, being alone in an unfamiliar place, and soon her worries began to subside. She emptied her mind of her anxiety, and opened it to the sights around her. The names of the cities and states all blended together as she passed through, but what stuck with her was how, somehow, was how the bustling, crowded cities reminded her all too much of Ikebukuro, and how the miles upon miles of plains once she was outside city limits brought her back to her time in Ireland. If she could be homesick for two different places at once, she certainly was. Her recovered memories of her homeland brought up a nostalgia and longing she had never quite been able to experience before. At the same time, Japan had become her home. Ireland had essentially become nothing to her. She rejected her purpose as a Dullahan, and rejected her thousands of years of life before her time in Japan. It was nothing but a reminder of the past.

Naturally, her longing for Ikebukuro brought Shinra into the center of her thoughts once again.

 _"Forget that you ever saw me."_ She had said that night she had been reunited with her head.

 _"I see that you're quite the liar today, Celty."_

She couldn't bring herself to look back. Shooter froze, nearly forcing her to. In that dry, hollow voice she had adapted, she commanded, _"What are you doing, Shooter? Get going."_

 _"'Do as I say and go, Shooter. If you just stand there, I'll have lied in vain.' Right?"_

Shooter whinnied frantically as Shinra spoke, and Celty finally allowed herself to turn her head. _"Human... Who are you?"_

Shinra smiled. _"Let's see... 'What are you doing here? Seeing you will only make it more painful to part, and if I pretend I forgot everything, you'd be more likely to give up!' Right?"_

Still, she couldn't give in. _"What are you talking about?"_

 _"I don't doubt that you've regained your head's memories,"_ Shinra continued, his smile still in tact. _"And I'm just as certain of one thing: that your memories of this city are still inside you."_

 _"What drivel is that?"_

 _"Now that I've spoken to you, I know I'm right. You're as kind as ever, Celty."_ He laughed. _"Maybe just a little too kind, though."_

Slowly, he limped towards her, balanced by the crutch underneath his arm. _"'Stop it! I shouldn't exist in this city! And so the least I could do is to vanish after bringing an end to all this chaos! If they thought I'd lost my memories of this city, I was sure they'd give up! Why would you go and ruin my plan when it's you I want to most forget about me?'"_

 _"Ridiculous,"_ she muttered.

 _"Don't be like that. Look at me, will you, Celty?"_

 _"Never mind, human,"_ she said hurriedly in an attempt to cut him off. _"I've had enough of your delusions."_

Not willing to bear any more, she watched as her shadows engulfed the man she loved before facing the darkness of night. Clutching at Shooter's reigns, she shouted, _"Go! Go on, Shooter!"_ With his neck bowed, Shooter moved forward. Despite the protests of the people she was leaving behind, Celty moved forward, and disappeared into the night.

 _"Don't be so grumpy, Shooter."_ Celty tried her best to soothe her Coiste Bodhar, but it was no use. _"It had to be like this. Now that I've regained all of my memories, if I were to live among humans, I'd only cause them even more suffering."_ Shooter neighed in response, and she let out a sad chuckle. _"Yes, it hurts. I admit it does hurt, Shooter. I want Shinra to forget about me, and yet I don't want to forget about him."_

In that moment, there was no way to expect what happened next. Suddenly, there was Shinra, yelling as he soared past her like it was nothing. Startled, Celty scrambled for words, but all she could do was reach her hands out to him, joining him in his descent.

 _"Celty, I'm sorry."_

 _Red eyes. Saika! Damn-_

Everything flashed before her as she extended her hand, just barely grasping Shinra's, cradling him against her as they fell, landing in her net of shadows below. Shinra fell silent. Frantic, Celty retrieved her PDA. _[Please, wake up! Please don't die!]_

 _"Don't do that, Celty. Shaking the wounded so hard."_

 _[Idiot! You idiot!]_ Celty typed with one hand, and repeatedly jabbed her other into his side. _[You're the most worthless idiot ever!]_

 _"That hurts, Celty."_

 _[One wrong move and you could have died! Shinra, you could've died, you know!]_

With a weak smile, Shinra put a hand on her shoulder. _"I insulted your way of life as a Dullahan, as well as the future you'd chosen. Of course I had to risk my life, or else it wouldn't be fair, right?"_

 _[You really are an idiot!]_

He was an idiot, but he was her idiot. He had undoubtedly done selfish things that impacted her, but he wasn't the villain he thought he was; not to her. All they needed was time, and space.

And so, Celty lost herself in these strange new places. Here, she wasn't the Headless Rider, or even a Dullahan; she was the nameless, faceless traveler seen by only a select few. She was a woman on a journey to nowhere, silent and contemplative. Darkness became her.

For the first time in twenty years, Celty Sturluson existed separate from the world.

It had been nice, while it lasted. After a month, she assumed Shinra had been tortured enough. She was ready to go home, ready to face him and hope for the best.

When she finally made her way back to the apartment she called home, she hesitated at the door. _Is it too soon?_ She wondered. _Is it too late?_ Well, perhaps that was a stupid question. It would never be too late with Shinra. Though it served no purpose for her functionless lungs, Celty took in a deep breath (how was unknown even to her) as she rang the doorbell.

"Coming!" Someone called from inside, and it didn't take long for Celty to recognize that strange, broken tone as Emilia's voice. Before she could curse the undeniable presence of Shingen, Emilia had opened the door and clasped her hands together. "Celty-san!" She exclaimed, smiling as she took one of Celty's hands in hers. "Come in. I'll go get Shinra-san!"

If Celty could have smiled, she would have. _You don't have to keep adding -san, Emilia._ Following her mother-in-law's request, Celty entered the apartment, and a sudden wave of emotion came crashing over her. How could it hurt her so much, yet make her so happy to see this place again, she wondered. Emilia disappeared around the corner, and Celty removed her boots, closing the door behind her before heading down the hall. Shingen was seated at the kitchen table, and Celty didn't give him the time of day.

Emilia soon returned, and there was Shinra, sheepishly smiling as soon as their eyes met - for lack of a better term. "Hi, Celty."

Celty took a step forward, and Shinra tensed, bracing for a punch, or slap, or jab to the stomach. Celty did none of these things, instead pulling him into her embrace without a word. She swore she heard a sniffle, but when she finally let go, Shinra showed no signs of crying.

"Welcome home," he said softly.

Celty reached for her PDA and wrote, [I'm back.]

. . .

Naturally, Shinra didn't change overnight, but from the night she returned, it was obvious to her that he had done some reflecting, just from his body language. He maintained somewhat of a distance, something he hadn't done since before they had started dating. It was strange, not having him all over her.

[I don't mind, you know.] She told him one night, beckoning him to come closer as they sat on opposite ends of their couch.

Shinra chuckled weakly. "Sorry. I just wasn't sure..."

[I'm here, aren't I?]

With a smile, Shinra scooted closer, leaning to rest his head on her shoulder.

After a moment of blissful silence, Celty began typing. [How have you been?]

"Good," Shinra replied, less enthusiastic than normal, though nowhere near as forlorn as Celty might have expected. "Shizuo-kun's made a habit of visiting me on his day off. I think we've been a huge help for each other."

[Izaya?]

Shinra nodded. "The guilt of not knowing is eating away at him. And, hearing him talk about Orihara-kun without getting mad... well, it's been a bit of an eye-opener. And I can never know peace with Dad and Emilia around, so I haven't been bored," he teased, and Shingen sneezing was heard faintly from the guest room. "How about you?"

[Good. America's a nice place. Maybe next time I can see more of it than just highways and rest stops at three a.m.]

"Next time?"

[Well, we didn't really get to enjoy our vacation.]

Shinra beamed at that.

. . .

It didn't take long for Celty to become included in Shinra and Shizuo's weekly meetings, though if anything, she was more of a third wheel, off on the sidelines watching what was once only a semblance of a friendship into something neither man had probably imagined.

 _"He's just a bad acquaintance that stuck,"_ Shizuo had told her once, though the smile on his face as he spoke to Shinra said otherwise.

Slowly, Shinra's life filled up with people outside of Celty. From drinking with Kadota and his ragtag group to keeping Anri company when Celty was out working and looking back fondly on old photos of him and Izaya, it seemed like he was always occupied outside of work. Their Christmas party the following year was perhaps the best evidence for Shinra's change. Together they sat surrounded by the familiar faces that made up their abnormal everyday, some more friendly than others, but all of them were connected regardless. Shinra, ever the dutiful host, moved from each guest, and Celty watched with a certain fondness tugging at her still heart.

Kishitani Shinra, the man who loved her more than anyone, knew her better than anyone. The man who had done everything for her, put his life on the line for her, done whatever it took to get her to stay with him.

He had never needed to go to such lengths, because she couldn't have found anyone better.

. . .

Twenty-three years and several months of planning later, they were officially married; thanks to Izaya, of all people. Married life was no different from the lives they had been leading, but their marriage was a soothing thought. She had meant it when she told Shinra she would stay with him forever, abandoning her head for her love.

That wasn't to say it had been flawless. There were bound to be arguments between the two of them, though they usually just ended in Celty jabbing Shinra's stomach, and that was that. The fights weren't as bad as the nightmares.

For some time, she had become plagued by dreams of losing Shinra, of that dreadful moment when forever had an expiration date.

Evidently, Shinra had caught on.

"Well..." Shinra began one night, as they both lie awake in the middle of the night. "I have been a little worried about you."

Celty's fingers hovered over the keypad as she attempted to formulate a response. [Worried? Why?]

"I've been worried about your nightmares."

The smoke from her neck flowed in a pattern that signaled her embarrassment; it became thicker and flowed faster than normal, though it wasn't out of control like when she was truly ashamed. In a way, this was a simple blush. She took a lot longer to respond than she should have, and Shinra raised his brows, questioning the truth of her statement. [They're nothing. I'm fine.]

"You know you can talk to me, Celty." His tone was gentle as he spoke, and it was enough to make Celty's smoke more erratic, bursting to form a small heart in the darkness. The covers, along with her PDA, fell as she reached out for him without warning, pulling him into an embrace.

She didn't have to type to know that her feelings would be conveyed to Shinra.

 _Just let me stay here. Please._

Without a word, he accepted her embrace, holding her close. It took some time for Celty to pull away, and when she did, she reached for her PDA, holding it out for him to see.

[I love you.]

With a warm smile, Shinra replied, "I love you, too." He leaned in once more, pressing a kiss to her neck before shifting his weight, wrapping his arms around her and lying down on his back, pulling her down with him. Celty rested her neck against his chest, the smoke coming from the gaping hole slow once more.

The story of twisted love between Kishitani Shinra and Celty Sturluson now closes its curtains, for their love is no longer twisted.

* * *

 **author's note**

Well, I'm back a lot sooner than I thought I'd be! I was honestly going to put this off for a few weeks or so, but I got a review last night that turned my world upside down - in the best way possible! I'll address that in a sec.

First: finally we see Celty's side of the story! Hopefully I did a good job with conveying her feelings. I know I didn't do the best job with Shinra's side, and I feel like it might still be a little lackluster here. Maybe that's just me doubting myself. But negativity aside, I was really inspired to write this in particular because I started rereading the light novels! They've really opened my eyes to bits of characterization I either missed or forgot about originally and they're making me fall in love all over again, so if my writing seems a little different, that's why.

I'm not done writing for Shinra and Celty yet, but if I can stick to my plan, then the van gang will be coming into the spotlight next! I do have some other fics for other fandoms I'm working on, so I can't say for sure when it'll be out, but it'll hopefully be out soon.

I'm not sure if they'll see it here or not, but I wanted to address Tui and their review by saying thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I could've cried reading that, knowing that someone has been inspired by me to keep writing. It's one of the highest praises you can give a writer, and it means a lot for me in particular because I almost gave up not that long ago. Reading your review made my entire day, and it's the reason why this chapter is out so soon! Seriously, I don't think I can thank you enough.

And of course, thank you to everyone for reading! Please let me know what you thought of this chapter! I feel like this is a step up from my other works; a baby step, but a step regardless.

I'll hopefully see you again soon!


	9. where your love lies (namie)

**where your love lies**

 _"villains find company in each other."_

* * *

How strange it was, Yagiri Namie pondered, that it was possible for someone to love and hate to such extremes simultaneously.

She had never questioned her ability to experience both individually. Her emotions might as well have fluctuated with the snap of a finger. This was the first time of note, however, that she felt everything all at once.

Naturally, it was all because of Izaya.

In the months since she had resumed working as his secretary, her life had, much to her surprise, known peace. Unable to sacrifice her pride and work for Nebula, Izaya became her only option, for once being the lesser of two evils. She had witnessed it firsthand during the Kishitani-Sturluson Christmas party, after all. Shinra was intent on keeping the two of them apart, but it hadn't stopped her from observing. It hadn't stopped _anyone_ from observing. Orihara Izaya and Heiwajima Shizuo were having a civil conversation. Not only that - they were smiling, laughing. _Together._

 _He has to be drunk,_ was her first assumption. She _might_ have caught him enough times in the past to know he was both a lightweight and an absolute wreck. Her guess technically wasn't wrong, but it was far more than met the eye.

 _"Why do Shizuo-senpai and Orihara Izaya no longer wish to destroy one another?"_

Sure, Namie had been away from Ikebukuro for two and a half years, but the city couldn't change just like that, right? She became just as perplexed as Varona, unable to give the woman an answer.

Perhaps against her better judgement, she went to Shizuo for answers. Izaya surely would have charged her outrageously, making the generally honest, straightforward Shizuo the better option in spite of her distaste for him otherwise.

 _"You're Yagiri-san, right?"_ He had asked. When Namie nodded, he hesitated, running a hand through his hair. _"Guess I can tell you, then."_

For a moment, she forgot she was talking to Heiwajima Shizuo. _The_ Heiwajima Shizuo, the strongest man in Ikebukuro. He just stood there, fumbling around as if he wasn't known for having the shortest fuse known to mankind.

In a softer tone, he replied, _"We're dating."_

Namie struggled to form a coherent sentence. _Dating?!_ Scoffing in disbelief, she asked, _"How?"_

Shizuo smiled, stifling a laugh. _"It just kinda happened."_

With that as her answer, she found herself eternally grateful that she hadn't gone to Izaya. He would have spared no detail - or expenses.

Her hesitance didn't stop her from seeing him again, however. Shizuo was perhaps a little too trusting, giving her Izaya's new number, and she had to wonder just what Izaya had told him. Pushing those thoughts aside, she dialed his number. One ring, two rings, three. Then, _"Orihara speaking."_

"Pizza delivery," Namie replied with some semblance of a smirk. She had never been fond of her contact name being pizza delivery of all things, but she supposed it could have been worse.

Izaya didn't miss a beat. _"What's the occasion?"_

"I'd like to work for you again," Namie said, trying her best to not sound as if she had given up the last of her dignity.

Izaya chuckled. _"You must be desperate."_

"I wouldn't go that far."

 _"I'll text you the address. See you tomorrow, nine sharp."_ Before she could answer, Izaya had hung up, and seconds later his text went through, faster than she would have believed humanly possible had she not known him.

The following morning at 8:59 a.m. she knocked at his door, and moments later he appeared. This wasn't the first time she had seen him in all this time, but something about going to his apartment to work, something that had once been normal, felt so unfamiliar as their eyes met. The first time they had met back at the party, she hadn't known anything about what had happened to him in the days following her kidnapping, and evidently, she wasn't the only one out of the loop. For two years, his fate had been unknown to virtually everyone. It was Mika who let the secret slip; how she found out remained a secret to Namie, but it hadn't changed what happened. His time away from Ikebukuro had changed him. Something about him was kinder, more forgiving. She had always been able to see through his facade, but now it was as if he wasn't even trying to hide. She almost dared to say he wasn't the same man.

"Yagiri Namie in the flesh." Izaya's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and when she refocused onto him, she swore she saw a hint of authenticity behind that sly smile. "It's good to see you," he continued, stepping aside so she could enter. With a nod she did, and upon entering, she was immediately taken aback. For a moment, she had forgotten that this wasn't the apartment she had once known. Izaya caught her staring, and she quickly changed the subject before he even had a chance to speak.

"So, what hell are you putting me through today?"

Perhaps there was a smile behind her words.

. . .

It hadn't been easy, getting over Seiji.

That was to be expected. Seiji was the one person who had always been by her side. With her parents frequently out of the picture, she was left with her uncle Seitarou, and her time with him didn't fare much better. He was constantly occupied with his work, particularly the beautiful severed head hidden away in his study. Dolls were Namie's only company until Seiji was born, and how she hated those dolls. But it didn't matter as much any more, because she had a little brother to look after. Seiji became her everything; the one dependent on her, and the one she depended on herself. She truly loved him with all her heart, and for some time, it wasn't wrong to her. She wanted, _needed_ someone to love and love her in return. Seiji was the only one willing to do so in her eyes. Eventually he became the only person she needed, and perhaps she expected the same of him.

That must have been why it hurt so much, seeing that look in his eyes that day.

That head was Namie's muse. From the moment she first held it in her hands as a child, she had become completely enamored with it. It was enough to interest her in science, the very thing that had stolen away the normalcy her life could have known. Whether fortunately or unfortunately, she was a scientist by birth, with an innate curiosity for the world around her, particularly the head. It was no wonder why she wanted to share it, her passion, with Seiji.

But he loved the head. Not her.

While Namie was entranced by the mystery surrounding the head, she understood it was just that; a head. To Seiji, the head was a person, someone he could love. How many nights had she lay awake wondering where she went wrong, wondering how her brother could fall for a severed head and not her? She showered him with nothing but love, so why, why, why, why, _why?!_

As she grew older, she grew to understand that her love was wrong. She could love Seiji as a brother, but he would never be able to provide her what she desired. She knew this, but her feelings were unwavering. She was beyond the point of no return. She'd do anything for Seiji's sake, even if it meant putting her at odds with a head. This would eventually pit her against Mika. Mika was just as obsessed, just as devoted to Seiji, and just like Namie, Seiji couldn't return her feelings. He could only love what was above the scar around her neck. Namie could have had sympathy for Mika given their situations, but her jealously only grew. She couldn't help but follow Seiji and Mika to America. They were all she had.

Until she lost everything.

 _"I think I'm in love with Mika."_

Before they left for America, Seiji had already grown to consider Mika family, which had already been enough of a threat. She had feared this moment for so long, and she had expected the walls of the universe to collapse around her, crushing her with the harsh realization that she never truly had a chance. She couldn't accept his love for the head, or Mika's love for him. Surely she couldn't accept him falling in love with Mika.

But she smiled.

 _"I'm so happy for you, Seiji."_

She smiled, because her brother had finally found happiness. But despite her own happiness, it felt as if someone had stabbed her through the heart a hundred, thousand times. She was more alone than she had ever been. Seeing him only made things worse, but it was inevitable. She couldn't avoid him forever. He made a point to check on her frequently, and she reasoned she didn't even deserve him as a sibling.

He stopped by her apartment one night, which, granted, was right next door to him and Mika, and she supposed she had no choice but to open the door. Without a word, she gestured for him to sit down, and the two sat in a rather uncomfortable silence, Namie refusing to speak, occupying herself with a glass of wine.

"Sis," Seiji finally said firmly. "Please talk to me."

Namie frowned. "What is there to talk about?"

"You," Seiji replied, and she could hear him holding back his frustration. Seiji typically wasn't one to lose his temper.

Namie set her glass down. She couldn't stifle a chuckle before she said, "What, about how I'm a pathetic, despicable woman?"

"You shouldn't let that hold you back."

"How kind," Namie grumbled in response, crossing her arms. "Seiji, how can you look at me and see any good?"

"I don't," he replied bluntly before hurriedly cutting off a scowling Namie. "Not yet. But that doesn't mean there isn't any. You just have to live, grow."

Namie almost laughed at how nonchalant he was. Instead of laughing, before she knew it, there were tears streaming down her face. Taken aback, she jumped from her seat, turning her back to Seiji and leaving the room. Seiji called to her, and she called back once her voice was stable, "It's funny. I'm supposed to be the older sibling, but I've always been the one depending on you, haven't I?"

Seiji cautiously approached her, and quietly he said, "Namie, you can always depend on me."

And the tears began again. The last, and only other time he had called her by her given name had been out of anger. Unable to avert her gaze any longer, she turned to face him, embracing him and burying her head in his shoulder, silent save for muffled sobbing.

Forcing herself into solitude had given her far too much time to think; about her twisted love, about her failed career, how lost she was, and just who she was. How much of herself had she forgotten after all these years, and how much was left to salvage? Was she truly nothing more than an overambitious, arrogant villain in love with her brother? Was Seiji truly the only one in her life, or had she just pushed everyone else away?

In the months following Seiji's confession and her subsequent return to Ikebukuro, she sought to answer these questions. Slowly but surely, the Yagiri Namie who once saw everyone and everything as rubbish began to open her eyes. It was simple at first, as she found her gaze lingering on the men that passed her by. Surprisingly, it wasn't too odd for her. For the first time, it felt natural to find a man attractive.

What complicated things was when she dreamed about when she had kissed Mika.

Naturally, she woke up disgusted, because Mika was barely an adult and she was in a committed relationship with Seiji. Namie could acknowledge these things. Her disgust had nothing to do with Mika being a woman, though she was certainly confused. She had no reason to consider women as an option, or anyone aside from Seiji for that matter. Perhaps it was a sign.

Sure enough, Namie found her gaze lingering on both men and women; still only a select few, because it would take some time for her to let go of her arrogance. It was difficult, but for the first time, she had faith. Returning to Ikebukuro was a breath of fresh air. Finally, she was home. There were very little pieces for her to pick up and place back together, having lost Yagiri Pharmaceuticals, but she could make it work. While in Chicago, she had grown quite fond of her job as a barista at a local-run coffee shop. She was hopeful to get a similar job now that she was home, but fate led her back to Izaya.

Not that she'd ever admit such a ridiculous thing.

Still, it was somewhat relaxing, working for him again. The work was nothing compared to other jobs, and for outrageous pay. She had no problem supporting herself on her earnings from before even as she lived in America. It was the ideal job, if you excluded having Izaya as a boss.

Soon, even that was a soothing thought. It didn't take her long to realize that maybe, just maybe, she was falling for him. After all, she had a bad habit of falling for the ones she could never have. There was just something about him that she couldn't quite place. Some things were easy to see; that he was a despicable man, and by the same token, she was a despicable woman. But they were learning, growing. Just as Seiji had wanted of her.

Strangely, it might have been his honesty that really got her.

Izaya's poor sleeping habits had been no stranger to Namie, but that morning was the first time she had arrived at his apartment and he wasn't awake waiting for her. She had a spare key, but the door was carelessly left unlocked. For a moment, she feared the worst, but once she reached his room, she left out a breath she didn't know she was holding. He was still breathing. Cautiously, she shook his shoulder, murmuring his name, waiting for him to awake.

He soon stirred, sitting up and letting out a long yawn. "Oh," he said upon realizing she was there, ready to work. "Sorry. I took Shizu-chan out a little too late last night."

 _So it is true._ She thought with a smile somehow both amused and sad. Curious, she asked, "How late?"

"Four a.m."

"I think I actually respect Heiwajima now."

Izaya smiled. "Now, now, Namie-san."

"What?" She asked, grinning in return. "He has more impulse control than I thought."

"He's changed quite a bit," Izaya replied.

"Has he."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have to change, too." He couldn't even finish what he had started without cringing. Neither could Namie.

"I hope you know how awful that was."

With a weak chuckle, Izaya replied, "Feel free to poison me today. Consider it a free pass."

"I might just take you up on that," Namie said as she closed the door and headed back to the office with a smile.

Part of her had been tempted to tell him that he had already changed, had it not been for his sleep deprived brain ruining the atmosphere. Before, he had been nothing more than a bother. Now when she looked at him, she saw someone all too human, a mere shell of the man who had proclaimed that Celty Sturluson would take him to Valhalla, the puppet master pulling the city's strings. He was weak, and he didn't try to hide it. Not that it stopped him being a stubborn bastard, but it was a noticeable change. He was nice; not kind, but it was a step in the right direction. He actually smiled now, not always hiding behind that defense mechanism of a smirk. Dealing with his antics was no longer a chore.

All of humanity still hated his guts, for the most part, but she supposed she and Shizuo were the two exceptions to that generalization. She chuckled to herself as she waited for him to enter the room. _If Heiwajima can fall for him, anyone can._

So she did. Maybe the spark had already been there before; she'd never really know, but it wasn't as if it mattered. Izaya never let her forget that Shizuo was in the picture. She didn't mind; this was the kind of lifestyle she was used to, chasing after those who would never return her feelings.

It was just nice to have a friend by her side.

Well, most of the time.

. . .

Love and hate pulled her heart into a tug of war as Izaya wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder, peering over it into the boiling pot in front of them. Shizuo was working late that night, both of them were hungry after a long day of work, and this wouldn't be the first time Namie had cooked dinner. She had never minded much before, aside from a minor incident where Izaya just barely avoided getting stabbed, and it was no different now.

Mostly.

"Namieeeee."

"-san," she corrected, not batting an eye. "Easy, Orihara. I don't want Heiwajima to kill me in my sleep."

Izaya laughed, unmoving. "You're taking this better than I thought you would."

"I'm surprised myself," she replied, setting the knife in her hand down. "Are you going to let go of me now?"

Izaya hummed in response. "I wonder, how long can you keep up your facade?"

Namie's eyes wandered to the knife once again. _How am I attracted to this man..._ "You must have a death wish. Looking for someone to fill the void Heiwajima left behind now that you're in love?"

"It's a simple test, Namie."

She might have flinched. _"-san,"_ she pressed once more.

"We're friends, aren't we?"

"Now that you've said it it's been ruined."

Izaya released her with a sigh, and defeated, he sauntered off to the living room. Namie managed a smile as she watched him go before her focus returned to the vegetables she was chopping up. "You're awful, playing with a woman's feelings, you know."

"Oh?" Izaya perked up. "You're admitting it?"

Namie shrugged her shoulders. "There's no point in hiding what you already know. Besides, I know better than to think anything will happen between us."

"You've learned quite a bit, haven't you?"

"Don't patronize me," she murmured with a smile.

Izaya, restless as ever, returned to the kitchen, pacing around as he spoke, "You'll find someone. In fact, I think you already have."

Ah, of course. He wasn't going to let that go, was he?

Shortly after she had begun working for him again, perhaps only a week later, he had asked, _"There's another reason why you started working for me, isn't there?"_

 _"And what if there is?"_ She responded, meeting his gaze over her cup of coffee.

 _"I'm curious, that's all."_

Sighing, Namie replied, _"Heiwajima's little girlfriend asked me why you two didn't want to kill each other any more."_

 _"Varona, huh?"_ Izaya smiled. "I would've thought the answer would be obvious to her."

 _"Evidently not,"_ Namie said, and she couldn't help but notice Izaya's brows raise, ever so slightly. _"But it got me thinking. I wanted to understand why myself."_

 _"You know, Namie-san,"_ Izaya began, making it Namie's turn to be taken aback. _"You didn't seem all that happy saying 'girlfriend.'"_

Had she? She hadn't even noticed. But, of course, Izaya wasn't going to let it go. Once again, Namie became occupied by her thoughts. Varona _was_ attractive, she wouldn't deny that. Those mysterious violet eyes, the black dress perfectly complimenting her porcelain skin and slim figure, the faint smirk that tugged at her lips, though only for a second. Perhaps if this woman hadn't aimed a gun at her immediately upon meeting her, she might have wanted to get to know her.

It had been a while since she had been held at gunpoint.

Honestly, she should have expected as much after returning. Her safety had already been enough a gamble before she had left; perhaps before her uncle and Kujiragi Kasane abducted her would be a better comparison. Surely they, or someone else would be searching for her, ready to finally make their move now that she was at a disadvantage.

But Yagiri Namie wasn't a fool. Granted, bringing a knife to a gunfight wasn't the preferred outcome, but it was better than being unarmed against a woman who couldn't even be labeled as a mere serial killer with her body count.

Actually, perhaps she was a fool. Typically when a villain such as herself heard an unfamiliar voice say her name in a low voice, it couldn't mean anything good, and that remained true for this situation. She didn't turn, she didn't speak, she simply stopped in her tracks.

That voice, far gentler and calm than she would have expected, sounded again in question. _"You are employed by Orihara Izaya, yes?"_

Orihara Izaya. She could almost laugh. Someone hadn't been well informed. Either one of them was an idiot or they both were, for Namie turned to face her and the woman didn't shoot. It didn't take her long to place a name to this face; the woman known only as Varona. A Russian fugitive who lived for the thrill of the kill, and who had found herself working under Heiwajima Shizuo. The irony of it was laughable, but it wasn't the time or place.

 _"Oh, is Heiwajima having you do the dirty work for him?"_ She sneered. _"Fortunately, I'm no longer under his employ."_

Point blank and without lowering the gun, Varona replied, _"Shizuo-senpai has asked nothing of me. I am here of my own volition."_

 _"What did Izaya do to you?"_ Namie asked, stifling a chuckle.

 _"Why do Orihara Izaya and Shizuo-senpai no longer wish to destroy each other?"_

Namie could only ask, _"What?"_

 _"Shizuo-senpai relayed this to me himself, but I find it unfathomable,"_ Varona explained, though it didn't serve as much of an explanation. _"I feel that I must destroy this enemy of his."_

Namie raised her brows. Had this woman lost her mind? _"You should stay as far away from Izaya as possible. Believe me, if Heiwajima can't kill him, no one can."_

 _"You underestimate me,"_ Varona retorted, gun unwavering. _"I have never failed to eliminate a target."_

 _"So I've heard."_ An amused smirk took the place of Namie's prior confusion. _"Tell me, how many people have you killed?"_

The gun quivered in Varona's hands. _"One hundred and seventy-six."_

Faintly, Namie muttered, _"So you know the number, too."_

 _"You are a strange woman, Yagiri Namie."_ Varona withdrew her gun, her eyes following Namie's knife as she cautiously withdrew it as well. _"I will retreat for now, but do not accept this as defeat."_

With a chuckle, Namie said, _"I wouldn't dream of it."_ Dumbfounded, she watched Varona as she left, her mind creating far more questions than she would have liked.

 _A hundred seventy-six people... she could have easily added me to that list._ With a bit of a fiendish smile she thought to herself, _She was going to try and use me, but is she really that smart?_ Varona seemed far too childish, and ignorant, to have that much blood on her hands. Namie couldn't help but scowl at the thought of Izaya reveling in this development.

She chose to leave that bit out of her retelling, though Izaya was just as entertained regardless. Certainly he'd be even more so knowing that she'd run into the woman again by chance around a month later.

Varona hadn't been kidding when she told Namie to not accept her retreat as defeat. Fortunately she was smart enough to not challenge her in the middle of the street, gesturing instead for Namie to follow her. With some spare surgical tools hidden in her purse, Namie wasn't too worried.

"So, have you found an answer to your question yet?" She brought herself to ask.

Varona frowned. "I am not too concerned with that. I simply wish to fight you."

"Way to be upfront," Namie laughed to herself. "What, did leaving with your tail in between your legs hurt your ego, Voronin-san?"

Though she had opened her mouth, waiting for the chance to protest, Varona soon bit her lip. Namie stifled another laugh. Sure enough, Izaya had been right.

 _"If you use her real name, it's easy to catch her off guard."_

Namie hardly had a chance to react as Varona lunged at her, her reflexes saving her from being stabbed in the chest. Varona's knife collided with the wall of the alleyway behind her. With Varona panicking, Namie hurriedly slung her bag off of her shoulder and grabbed the first thing she could find. Clutching the amputation saw, she waited for Varona to turn around, both curious and anxious to see the look in her eyes.

 _She's really going to kill me._

 _Dammit dammit dammit dammit damn-_

Namie's hand moved on its own, the saw narrowly shielding her from the following attack, holding off any others as neither could move. Against her better judgement, Namie swung her free fist, but for Varona, this was an opportunity. Latching onto Namie's arm, she ducked underneath it. Namie whirled, desperate to keep up, but Varona had her by the arm, forcing the saw to fall to the ground, Namie's face landing mere centimeters away as her opponent pinned her to the ground.

 _This is pathetic._ Namie cursed her inexperience. Perhaps she had always been pathetic, having her subordinates do the dirty work for her, even being outsmarted, at least momentarily, by a then high school girl. Blood pounded in her ears as heart felt as if it would beat out of her chest. She was going to die, but she wasn't scared.

This was the most fun she'd had in a while.

Varona cried out as Namie shifted her weight underneath her, stabbing her heels into Varona's thighs, giving her a split second to crawl far enough away, grasping for the saw. Varona reached for her knife once again, and the clamor of steel hitting steel echoed through the alley, over and over again, the women perfectly matched. That is, until Namie aimed beyond, reaching out for Varona's head, just to give her a scare. Had she not jerked her head away at that moment, it might have been more than a scare.

Namie swore she saw Varona smile as she lowered the knife and said, "I apologize. This was not meant to be a fight to the death."

"Last time we met you called me strange, but I think that title belongs to you," Namie replied, and she hurried to stifle a laugh as her lips formed a smile. She was pretty odd, but it was endearing, if her own smile told her anything. Without thinking, she asked, "Do you want to go get coffee?"

Varona blinked at her, unable to respond.

"Well, maybe we are both strange," Namie added, ready to turn her heel and leave her behind, though she stopped when Varona spoke.

"That would be nice."

Namie faced her with a pleased, albeit smug, smile. The coffee shop she and Izaya often frequented was just around the corner, fortunately leaving little time for awkward small talk on the way. She had gotten herself into this mess, and had no idea how to find her way out. Who was she, asking the person she had just fought in an alleyway if she wanted to go out for coffee with her? It wouldn't be the first time her arrogance had gotten the better of her, but it would be the first time she had invited someone out. Well, besides Seiji, which never went well, or Mika, whom she only invited out with the intention of killing her.

 _Is this a date?_ Her mind naturally wandered as she entered the shop, Varona stopping at her side as they waited in line. She could feel her face heating up, and her composure wavering. This was a date, wasn't it? She had really invited Varona out for coffee with her, spur of the moment, because she was pretty and interested her in just how strange she was. She had really done it.

Yagiri Namie was twenty-eight years old and she had never been on a date before.

No, maybe she was overthinking. She was a bit of a hopeless romantic. Varona certainly wasn't treating it like a date as they took their seats. She was dead silent, completely invested in her strawberry frappuccino, almost reminding Namie of a child with her enthusiasm. The way her eyes lit up hardly made her seem like the person she had just fought.

"So, Varona-san," Namie began hesitantly, intertwining her fingers in front of her. "What brings you back to Ikebukuro? I had heard that you'd left for Russia."

Varona set her drink down, and the glow in her eyes faded. "Work," was all she said.

"Ah, with Heiwajima," Namie replied. "I bet that's...interesting." With only a nod to go off of, she sighed, resting her chin in her hand, absentmindedly sipping her drink. After a moment, she asked, "You're not very talkative, are you?"

"What would you like to hear?"

Namie rested her arms back down on the table, shrugging her shoulders in response. "What are you interested in, I guess?"

"Fighting, reading..."

 _Finally, something!_ Namie could have cheered. "What do you like to read?"

Varona shrugged. "Anything."

"Anything?" Namie echoed. With a small, hopeful smile, she asked, "You wouldn't happen to be interested in scientific journals, would you?"

Varona nodded.

Namie could hardly contain herself. She was ashamed, and felt it was pathetic to be so excited when she could hardly call herself a scientist anymore, but she had grown quite fond of reading. Of course, nothing could prove to be quite as interesting as her own research on the head of a Dullahan, but there was still some intrigue.

She had expected to gush about a few articles she had recently read with little to no feedback from Varona, but once she began talking, Varona became a human encyclopedia, rambling on and on about anything and everything. Namie herself had gotten so wrapped up in just listening to Varona speak that she was late for work.

As quickly as possible, she exchanged numbers with Varona and rushed out of the building, shakily texting Izaya. She wasn't even upset that she was late. She was just hopeless.

She didn't even notice Izaya smiling as he caught her daydreaming later that day.

. . .

She knew she could only choose one, and that her choice had essentially been made for her. Izaya would never love her. She knew this. No matter how comfortable they got around one another, he'd never fully let her in. She knew this, and she was okay with it.

But how she longed to reach out to him.

To wrap her arms around him on the rare occasions that he cooked for her, to try on that disgustingly comfortable looking jacket of his, to lie beside him, hand in hand. To love, and to be loved for the first time.

Yet, whenever she was with Varona, he became nothing more than an afterthought.

She was good as gone the moment she heard Varona laugh for the first time.

"So you're not a robot after all," she teased, unable to stop smiling.

Varona could only smile as well.

It wasn't love. Not yet, at least. It would take some time for her to be able to regain what she had felt for Seiji. But whether or not she'd get there was worth finding out.

After all, Orihara Izaya and Nastasya Voronin were villains, and villains found company in each other, particularly those doing their best to change.

Mostly doing their best.

. . .

Before she knew it, July had come around the corner, and with that came Varona's birthday. Namie wasn't one for any sort of celebrations, but working with Shizuo was a request from Izaya that even she couldn't bring herself to refuse.

Shizuo was insufferable to get along with, almost making it difficult for her to remember that this was for Varona.

"Listen, if you don't want to be a part of this, you don't have to. I just thought, since you like her and all-" He stopped upon noticing just how flushed Namie's face was getting.

"I never said that," she hurriedly retorted before taking a moment to compose herself. "I have been a little negative, sorry. I'd love to do something for her. I had something in mind, but..."

"What was it?"

Namie turned her head. "Nothing in particular. I just wanted to show my gratitude. She's done a lot for me lately, whether she intended to or not." She was still blushing, and Shizuo couldn't help but smile.

"Why don't you tell her then?"

Namie froze before whirling to face him, standing as tall as she could in her heels up against Shizuo's height. "As if!"

Shizuo's suggestion haunted her the following morning, even more so when it finally came time to head for the bakery where they were celebrating. _Tell her I'm thankful?_ She scoffed. _I couldn't. Especially not in front of Heiwajima. All of this is ridiculous!_

It was ridiculous, but something tugged at the ever cold Yagiri Namie's heartstrings.

"This is simply...strange," Varona murmured. "Not once have I celebrated this day, nor anyone else."

Tom finally managed to look back, concern written all over his face. "Are you doing okay?"

Varona blinked at him. "What do you mean?"

"I've been a little worried," he continued. "I mean, just a few months ago you wanted Shizuo to kill you. Now we're hearing that you've never celebrated a birthday. Maybe it's not my place as your boss, maybe it is. I just worry about you."

"I do not need your concern," Varona responded, significantly less hostile than any of her company would have expected. "Your words have helped me greatly, Tanaka-senpai."

Tom raised his brows. "What did I say?"

"That a reason to live is unnecessary." That small smile of hers found its way back to her. "I must simply live."

 _That's...surprisingly good advice, coming from someone like him._ Namie thought to herself. _You don't need a reason to live. You just do._

Namie found herself remembering the impulsive Yagiri Namie who had asked Varona out for coffee without a second thought, and how in the time since, she had gained someone she could call a friend, that she longed to refer to as more.

She wasn't going to hold back any longer.

As Varona opened the door to leave the bakery, Namie called out to her, meeting her at the door.

"I...wanted to tell you thank you."

Varona raised her brows. "You have no reason to thank me. You assisted Shizuo-senpai in organizing this, did you not?"

Namie shook her head. "That's not what I mean."

 _Thank you for putting up with me. Thank you for reminding me of my passion. Thank you for showing me that recovery takes time. Thank you for giving me something to believe in. Thank you for being you, with your strange speech, your childish love of cake, your adorable laugh; all your eccentricities._

"Varona, I...I like you."

She had a bad habit of falling for the ones she could never have, but perhaps things could be different. Perhaps someone as twisted as her could find love after all, with someone struggling, just like her.

And what Varona said was...

* * *

 **author's note**

I couldn't resist the cliffhanger, sorry. (￣ω￣)

Hello everyone! Sorry it's been so long. I started college a few weeks ago and school is my top priority, so writing has been a bit slow. On top of that, I suffer from a pretty severe case of carpal tunnel syndrome because I'm kind of an idiot who is only just now attempting serious treatment. Half of this fic was written singlehandedly because of that, so I apologize for any typos or errors.

Finally, we get a full length one shot focusing on Namie! I've really only showed her story in brief snippets so I wanted to do her justice, especially since I have a lot I want to explore with her. I've recently gotten really attached to her as a character and her unexplored potential. I wanted to explore the possibility of her moving on from Seiji, and that desire spawned so many questions I wanted, needed to answer. I hope I did those answers justice.

I do think this was a step backward from Unwavering Thoughts in terms of quality, though. Especially the fight scene. yikes. I can't write fight scenes, we know this. Once I had the idea in my head though, I knew I wasn't getting rid of it. Really wish I could read my writing without my personal bias...

There are still some gaps in this story that I intend to fill, so don't worry! If you haven't read Complications or Bittersweet already, I would highly recommend doing so. I didn't want to become a broken record and repeat everything. That aside, I will definitely show more of Izaya and Namie, particularly Izaya's feelings (nothing romantic, don't worry, he's completely faithful to Shizuo). And of course I have to show Varona's answer! That probably won't be for a while, though. It's so much fun writing for Namie and Varona, but I've had so much focus on them lately, so I'd like to shift gears for a bit.

The next fic I'd love to write is Masaomi-centric, particularly about how hard it can be to forgive. (wink wink) But what I'd love to do more is write what you all want to see! Please, if you have any suggestions, let me know! I've made it my goal to release 1 one shot every month, but with school, it's hard telling not knowing. Updates, as always, will be posted to my profile.

As always, thank you so much for reading! Your support truly means the world to me.


	10. forgiveness (masaomi, saki, izaya)

**forgiveness**

 _"after all, running away was all he was good at."_

* * *

When Masaomi had heard the news that _he_ was still alive, his anger was understandable.

As he watched his best friend put a gun to his head, powerless to do a thing to stop him, he swore that he'd never forgive the one behind it all. There was no explanation for Mikado's change in behavior other than that he had been manipulated. Mikado had admitted it himself, that Izaya had gotten into his head, the idea that in order to escape his mundane everyday he'd have to constantly evolve an unrelenting weight on his shoulders.

Almost two and a half years had passed since that horrifying night, and Masaomi had been given plenty of time to think. His yellow scarf had been lost to the vast blue sky, leaving him with nothing to keep him from visiting Mikado every day until he was released from the hospital. He had expected his friend's return to normalcy to be something of a process, taking time and requiring a true return to his everyday life as a student, not as a boy who only existed within the blinding white walls of the hospital. Evidently, being saved by the Black Rider and being stabbed in order to protect Anri must have served as a wake up call.

When he looked at Mikado during those few weeks, he could only see the little boy that had followed him without question. No matter how late it was at night, no matter what punishment or danger he'd face, Mikado always tiptoed downstairs, quiet as a mouse, to join Masaomi on whatever adventure he could come up with.

Maybe that was why he had invited Mikado to go to Raira with him, because he knew Mikado wouldn't tell him no.

Maybe he was just lonely. Without Saki, without Yatabe, without the Yellow Scarves, who was Kida Masaomi other than an empty shell? He was built of guilt, of fear, trapped in a living hell that he had caused, that he couldn't bring himself to fix. He resolved to leave everything behind him, everything except the one tie he couldn't bring himself to sever.

He had needed Mikado. He still needed him. As the threat of losing his childhood friend loomed over him, he realized that he couldn't even imagine a world without him in it. How could there be a world without Mikado's awkwardness, his determination, his kindness, and his criticism of Masaomi's jokes?

There were three people he couldn't live without: Mikajima Saki, Sonohara Anri, and Ryuugamine Mikado.

And he had failed to save all three of them from Orihara Izaya, the root of all evil in Kida Masaomi's world.

As he sat surrounded by the most important people in his life, there were no words to describe his emotions aside from pure fury, all because Izaya had entered his orbit. Masaomi had found himself dragged by Mikado and Anri to the Kishitani-Sturluson Christmas hot pot party along with Saki, though he couldn't complain at first. The company, albeit strange, was comforting. Of course, until Izaya showed up.

Everyone in the room went silent, and it was almost haunting, to have so much noise disappear so quickly, all with the arrival of one man. With the chatter slowly began to pick back up in the form of whispers, Shinra let out a defeated sigh. "Come on everyone, it's Christmas. I know it might be hard, but let's all get along."

Masaomi caught Saki smiling as Izaya looked her way, and he bitterly grumbled to himself, "As if I'd ever get along with that bastard. Why is he even here?"

"Masaomi," Saki chastised softly, her tone of voice one he had grown all too familiar with.

Masaomi hung his head. "Sorry. I just...wasn't he dead?" Lifting his head, his gaze wandered in Shizuo's general direction. "Besides, with Shizuo here, was inviting him really a good idea? We might have to get out of here."

Saki reaffirmed her grip on his hand, that smile still on her face. "Let's just see how things play out."

Masaomi wasn't sure he'd be able to keep his eyes off of Izaya the whole night, but sure enough, it was rather easy to become distracted, between focusing on his friends, eavesdropping on the loud, inane conversations that filled the room, and of course, enjoying the food.

What was impossible to ignore was Shizuo and Izaya greeting each other peacefully.

Kadota choked on his drink, Erika's screams were thankfully muffled by Walker, and once again, the noise level of the room fluctuated from shouting and laughing to curious whispers.

 _What the hell?_ "Saki, pinch me."

She did.

"Dammit."

. . .

"I think I want to go see Izaya-san."

Saki's voice was quiet, hesitant. It had a softness to it that Masaomi hadn't heard in some time, reminding him of that hollow girl confined to her hospital bed, with a false smile and a mind filled only with thoughts of the man who manipulated her. He would have placed the blame on it being early in the morning, and her having just woken up, but he knew that wasn't the case. She sounded so far away from him, and how that scared him.

Masaomi laughed in disbelief. "You're kidding, right?"

Though they had been able to occupy themselves for the rest of the party, it wasn't an easy task to do in the following days. Saki had clearly spent some time thinking about this. She had become so straightforward after finally breaking free from Izaya's control that Masaomi almost thought he was dreaming again, hearing the reluctance as she spoke.

"I almost didn't tell you," Saki continued, facing him with a crooked, uneasy smile. "I knew you'd get upset. But I want you to trust me."

"I do," Masaomi replied, grasping for her hand. "It's not about you. It's about him."

Saki giggled. "I know. I just want to make sure you know that I know what I'm doing." Her smile began to fade as she continued, her typically carefree eyes solemn in reflection. "Izaya-san isn't the greatest person, but he saved me when I needed someone the most. He took advantage of me, and I can see that now, but it doesn't change the fact that he helped me at first."

"Do you forgive him?"

"Mostly," Saki said. "You saw him. He seems different, like he's trying to fix his flaws, just like us."

With a dramatic sigh, Masaomi leaned over and rested his head on her shoulder. "Well, you know I can't tell you no. If you think you should see him, you should."

Smiling, Saki leaned into him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I will. Later, though. Someone still has to make breakfast..."

"Why make breakfast when I can lay in the embrace of a girl as beautiful as you?"

"You wouldn't want a girl this beautiful to starve to death, would you?"

"...Point taken."

. . .

If anyone was going to know where to find Izaya, it was Mikado. That alone was enough to Masaomi uneasy, but he couldn't deny Saki's right to make her own decisions. If Mikado wanted to keep in touch, and Saki had to see him one last time, he supposed he'd have to respect that.

Begrudgingly.

"Izaya-san's address?" Mikado echoed Saki's question, glancing from her to Masaomi, his puzzled gaze lingering on Masaomi. Masaomi could only shrug in return. With that as his answer, Mikado said, "I can ask him."

Saki innocuously glanced over his shoulder as he opened the chatroom's private mode, leaving Kururi and Mairu's antics and Masaomi and Saki's amused responses to fade to the background.

 **[(PM) Tanaka Taro:** Izaya-san, if you don't mind me asking, what's your address?

 **(PM) Chuuya:** Who's asking?

 **(PM) Tanaka Taro:** Saki-san.]

Masaomi, curious himself, snaked around the two and repositioned himself beside Mikado, pressing his cheek up against Mikado's.

"Masaomi!" Mikado protested with a laugh, attempting to nudge him away. "If you're going to be nosy, at least be more like Saki-san."

Saki grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Mikado smiled at her before the new notification on his phone caught his attention. "I got it."

"Thank you," Saki replied, rising from her seat on her and Masaomi's bed. "This is something I have to do."

"Wait, you're going now?" Masaomi asked.

Saki nodded. "Well, he's in the chat, so he's probably in need of some entertainment." Masaomi rolled his eyes in response. "You two keep Kyo-chan and San-chan occupied."

"Good luck," Mikado and Masaomi called after her in unison.

As soon as Saki was out the door, they both logged out of the chat.

. . .

 **[San:**?

 **San:** They left.

 **Kyo:** Without a word, too. Goodness, did I say something weird?

 **San:** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯]

. . .

Mikajima Saki was an enigma: always able to read others, yet no one could figure her out. Even Masaomi had a difficult time reading in to that plain smile, those clouded, far off eyes, and she supposed they understood each other better than anyone.

Including herself.

If Saki was incomprehensible to everyone around her, then she was just as mysterious to herself. She supposed it was only natural after essentially being brainwashed. Izaya had been her everything, her savior, her god. Looking back, she couldn't help but laugh at how foolish she was, but had just barely been a middle schooler; there was really no way for her to know better, especially when she had nothing to lose. Izaya had pulled her from the darkness and into the light. Even if that light had been nothing more than an illusion, she was still thankful.

Without Izaya, she would have never found her true light.

Despite knowing he'd be furious, Saki had to see Izaya; she knew this much. How she felt otherwise was a complete mystery, though a bit of anxiety tugged at her chest as she stood outside his door. After a moment's hesitation, she knocked.

Apparently she wasn't the only hesitant one. Izaya had surely been waiting for her, and yet there was an uncomfortable pause between the knock and him opening the door.

"Saki-chan," he said lightly, almost taken aback. "Good to see you."

Saki bowed her head. "And you." When she lifted her head, Izaya gestured for her to follow him, and she closed the door behind her as she was greeted by this strange new atmosphere. She had almost expected to see his old apartment, a place she could have almost called home. She couldn't quite place it, but something was different.

After all, if there was anyone who could help her understand herself, it was Izaya. Once, they had been empty. Now, this apartment felt anything but empty.

Saki took a seat on one of the couches, and Izaya returned a moment later with a cup of tea in hand, setting it down on the coffee table in front of her.

"So," Izaya began, taking a seat opposite of her. "I see things are going well for you and Masaomi-kun. You're a second year now, right?" Saki nodded, silent as she sipped her tea. "I bet that's strange, being two years behind."

"Just a little," Saki murmured. "I wanted to do this, though. It's a little hard to make a living on just a middle school education."

Izaya smiled. "So it is." He paused for a moment before continuing, "I assume you're here to say you forgive me. You were always the forgiving type."

 _Was I?_ Saki silently challenged with a smile. "Masaomi might think a little less of me, but it wouldn't sit right with me to hold a grudge." Izaya appeared to stifle a laugh. "I wanted to thank you, actually. For doing all you did for me."

"Really?" Izaya asked, more of a statement than a question.

Saki nodded. "But, that doesn't excuse you taking advantage of me."

Izaya finally released the laugh he had been clinging to. "Ah, there it is."

"What?"

"Nothing," Izaya replied softly, smiling to himself. "Don't mind me."

Perplexed, Saki continued. "Anyway, I'm done with you. I do think you've changed a little, but honestly, that doesn't matter to me."

"Harsh," Izaya murmured.

Saki's grin returned as she rose from her seat. "Thanks for the tea."

And just like that, she was gone.

Izaya laughed to himself once more as he retreated to his desk chair, spinning around and making himself mildly dizzy as he looked at his phone. He stared longingly at a photo of the twins he had stolen off of their social media with a forlorn smile, murmuring to himself, "Perhaps the children are smarter than the adults."

. . .

 **[San:** Ew.

 **Kyo:** What is it, San?

 **San:** Something feels weird.]

. . .

Saki's silence was unnerving.

It wasn't that she didn't speak, it was simply that she had a prodigious talent for keeping quiet what she deemed unimportant. Once again, Masaomi was reminded of that aloof girl from the past. He almost couldn't stand it, but he said nothing himself. That smile of hers wasn't the defense mechanism the two of them had grown all too used to. And so, he didn't ask. He simply made them both cups of hot chocolate and put on the last Christmas movie of the season. He did his best impression of an American accent, Saki laughed, and all was well.

With not a word of Izaya spoken between them, Masaomi's anger was silent, festering only in the black of night.

All was well.

School reopened following the holiday, leaving both Masaomi and Saki occupied, between their studies and their part-time jobs. Masaomi and Mikado would be taking their college entrance exams incredibly soon, only adding to the workload. Almost all of their afternoons were spent in the library together as a result.

"I'm surprised you're studying so hard," Mikado joked. "Normally you'd be like, 'My charm and good looks will be enough!'" He added, trying his hardest to mimic Masaomi's voice.

Masaomi raised his brows, but smiled, somewhat proud of Mikado's honest attempt. "Normally I would, but reality's come crashing down."

"I'm proud of you," Mikado said, confident, though only for a moment. When Masaomi faced him, he immediately blushed. "It's just nice to see you on the right track...I got a little worried when you dropped out."

"Did you?" Masaomi replied with a smirk, and it took every ounce of self control he had to not torture Mikado more.

"N-Not that you're not smart or anything, or that I doubted you!" Mikado stammered, already beyond flustered. "I just..."

"You were just scared."

Both boys jumped at the sound of Saki's voice, and Masaomi let out an exasperated sigh once he caught his breath. "Saki, you really need to get better at warning us." With a giggle, Saki halfheartedly apologized. As she took her seat at their table, Masaomi teased, "Sorry, my ass," earning a rather dirty look from the librarian. If he had to count, he'd say this was at least the fifteenth time this had happened in the week since school had resumed, and he somehow hadn't been kicked out of the library yet, dragging poor Mikado down with him.

Softly, Mikado continued, brushing aside Saki's point with a deepened blush. "Still. I'm happy that we'll be going to university together."

 _Hopefully._ Masaomi lamented. "You can't get rid of me just yet."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"You two are adorable," Saki murmured, and Mikado's newfound confidence was once again lost.

Raira University: so close, yet so far. What was nothing more than an unattainable dream just two years ago was suddenly on the brink of becoming reality. It was no surprise, really; the majority of students who attended Raira Academy moved onto its university. Even so, it was a big deal for a former juvenile delinquent. Back then, there were some days he never thought he'd see the sun again.

Of course, the Yellow Scarves had been harmless in the beginning. At first, Masaomi had simply taken on fights on his own. It was until he stepped in to help others that the gang was truly formed. Even then, their ties were loose. The name itself meant nothing, in general or for its members, being nothing more than a suggestion from a passerby.

Unease had begun to consume a young Kida Masaomi. People started to gather around him when all he did was fight. Were he hungry for power, he might have appreciated this, but he was nothing more than a middle schooler with free time on his hands and an uncanny ability to hold his own in a fight. All he wanted was a place to belong.

It wasn't until Izaya got involved that the unease evolved into a debilitating anxiety. For a while, he had been self-assured. With Izaya's guidance, he soon forgot that the Yellow Scarves was a place for him to belong, and it became the source of power he had wanted to avoid. With each victory, the gang's morale grew stronger. They were unbeatable, Masaomi believed. He was on cloud nine, and nothing could bring him down.

Nothing, except the violent screams reverberating through his ears. Sometimes, he could still hear them, and often in his dreams he remained paralyzed from fear, unable to run, just as it had been that night all those years ago.

He had no choice to run away again, is what he had thought as a beaten and battered Masaomi pulled Saki into his embrace following the fight with Horada. He couldn't face Mikado and Anri again; not after everything he had done. With the appearance of the Black Rider before him and his own resolve firm in his mind, Masaomi had accepted that he would die that night. With blood gushing from his head, dying his yellow scarf and trickling down the crowbar in his hand, he feared nothing. In this underworld he had trapped himself in, it was now kill or be killed. In a way, he applied the same logic to Mikado and Anri. He had to run.

After all, it was all he was good at. Kida Masaomi was nothing more than a coward.

 _No matter what I become, I know Mikado and Anri will accept me. But... I still can't accept my own self from back then._

 _"You can't get rid of me just yet?" Don't be ridiculous. He's the one who can't get rid of me._

 _How pathetic._

As Masaomi carried on teasing Mikado, Saki's expression turned grim.

His silence was unnerving.

. . .

 _You should go see Izaya-san._ Saki tried to say, but for the first time in a while, her voice couldn't be found. Masaomi was the reason she had gained the courage to speak, yet her words were swallowed up in silence.

 _So this is how he felt with me._ She thought solemnly. _Oh Masaomi._

"I'm surprised you haven't told me to go visit Izaya yet," Masaomi joked, completely oblivious.

Saki could only smile.

. . .

Perhaps against his better judgement, when Masaomi saw Shizuo wandering around late one night, he allowed his curiosity to get the better of him. His boss wasn't present, so he must have been out of work, just as Masaomi had just finished his shift himself. With the fear of his forehead being flicked so hard it knocked him backwards in the back of his mind, he decided to follow after him.

 _I don't have to be too worried, right?_ Masaomi wondered. _He's been kinda tame lately..._ With a nervous gulp, Masaomi raised his voice just enough for Shizuo to clearly hear him. "Shizuo-san!"

Shizuo stopped, turning to face him with his brows raised, eyes squinted in thought. "You're that Kida kid, right?" Masaomi nodded. "What do you want?"

His statement wasn't as brash as Masaomi had expected, and his relief seemed to only confuse Shizuo further. He opened his mouth and prepared to say aloud the words no one would have dare spoken until that moment. "I want to talk to you about Izaya."

Shizuo's response was simply, "Follow me." He didn't wait for a response, he simply continued walking, leaving Masaomi to trail behind him. He led Masaomi to an abandoned South Ikebukuro park, taking a seat on one of the benches and immediately reaching for a lighter and cigarette. Masaomi warily sat beside him, and Shizuo was mindful to blow his smoke in the opposite direction before speaking. "You gonna say something or what?"

"Sorry," Masaomi murmured. "I wanted to ask...how did you get over hating him?"

Hesitant, Shizuo went for his cigarette once again, allowing himself a moment to think. "Time."

Masaomi waited for him to continue, puzzled when he continued smoking. "Time?"

"Time and distance, I guess," Shizuo clarified. "Him leaving Ikebukuro gave us both time to think."

"You have been acting differently lately."

Pleased, Shizuo replied, "Exactly. Not to get all philosophical and shit, but you've gotta look inward."

"Seems like that's all I do." Masaomi laughed weakly.

"There's one fatal flaw you're overlooking, Masaomi-kun."

Masaomi and Shizuo both flinched, and neither had to turn their head. Shizuo grumbled, "Fucking hell, where did you come from?"

Izaya chuckled. "Would you believe me if I said I was just passing by?"

In perfect unison, Shizuo and Masaomi replied, "No."

Izaya shrugged their answer off, sauntering around the bench so he now stood in front of them, his hands resting in his jacket pockets, jacket blowing out behind him in the nighttime breeze. He looked no different, but even Masaomi couldn't deny there was a certain softness to his expression.

Curious, Masaomi asked, "So, what's my fatal flaw?"

Izaya grinned. "You don't acknowledge it as a flaw, therefore you can't fix it."

"Stop being cryptic, dammit," Masaomi snapped.

"Good luck, kid," Shizuo murmured, side-eyeing Izaya, though the man's grin did not waver.

"Kida Masaomi, your fatal flaw," Izaya began. "is that you can't forgive."

Masaomi frowned. "Way to be a narcissist." He abruptly rose from the bench, eager to turn his back to Izaya. "I don't even know why I asked."

Izaya sighed. "Masaomi-kun-"

"Just stay away from Saki and Mikado and Anri," were Masaomi's parting words as he disappeared into the night. With a long sigh, he made his way back to his apartment, closing the door a little harder than usual, alerting Saki of his presence.

"You're late," she called from the kitchen. "Is everything okay?"

"Sure, I guess."

Saki dropped what she was doing and made her way over to the couch, wrapping her arms around an exasperated Masaomi's neck comfortingly. "Doesn't sound like it."

"I saw Izaya."

"What happened?"

Masaomi hesitated. "...He told me my 'fatal flaw' is that I can't forgive."

Saki smiled against his hair. "He's right."

"Are you serious?"

Saki released her hold on him, taking a seat beside him and taking his hand in hers. "Masaomi, just think for a minute. Things are okay. Mikado's happy. Anri's happy. I'm happy. Izaya-san seems to be doing better himself."

"So?"

" _Think,_ " Saki pressed, gripping his hand firmly, desperately.

He did; believe him, he did, but nothing came to mind. Saki. Mikado. Anri. What else was there?

What else-

"Oh."

Saki released a breath she didn't know she was holding.

" _Oh._ "

. . .

They didn't talk about it; again, most likely against Masaomi's better judgement, but then again, Saki wasn't always vocal herself. The closest they came to having a proper discussion was months later, with Masaomi's graduation just around the corner.

"Do you want to go see my parents?"

It was completely out of the blue, and Saki almost gaped upon hearing him speak. In all the time they had been together, Saki had only seen Masaomi's parents once, when he first introduced her almost three and a half years ago.

Masaomi hadn't seen his parents since the incident.

"I'd love that."

. . .

The Kida household wasn't all that far from Raira Academy by any means, and it was almost laughable that Masaomi hadn't visited. He had to hold back his laughter as he walked hand in hand with Saki to his former home.

"Are you nervous?" Saki asked redundantly.

Now Masaomi could laugh. "About the fact that I'll be lucky to be alive later today? Definitely not."

Fortunately, his mother wasn't angry. Kida Hitomi wasn't the demon Masaomi might have pictured, though the anger he had braced for was replaced with unbearable sadness and pure relief. She froze in the doorway when she saw her son and his girlfriend, eighteen years old and all grown up standing outside her door when the last time she had seen them they had been nothing more than middle schoolers.

Masaomi was the first to get pulled into a hug, and Hitomi refused to let go for at least five minutes. Saki was second, her hug significantly shorter, though just as meaningful.

It was then that the demon was unleashed.

Masaomi's mother wasted no time grabbing him by the shirt collar, forcing him to look her directly in the eyes with that stern yet innocent smile of hers. "You have a lot of explaining to do, young man."

And explain he did. He spared no detail as he described his experience to his mother, watching her anger and sadness flicker in her eyes. The Yellow Scarves, Blue Square, Saki, Izaya, Izumii, Mikado, Anri, the fear, the unease, the doubt, the pain. For the first time in what felt like forever, he poured his heart out. Beside him, Saki beamed, gently holding his hand for reassurance.

"'If you think it's a flaw, fix it,'" His mother echoed. "I like that." She got up from her seat, gesturing for Masaomi to do the same before pulling him into another long hug. "Thank you for coming to see me." Right when he thought he was safe, she ruffled his hair aggressively. "Now you better not disappear on me again. I don't want to hear about you getting involved with gangs again in a few years."

"I promise, mom."

"You better."

Saki giggled, and Masaomi and his mother soon followed suit. Masaomi grasped for Saki's hand as they left, and they walked hand in hand back to their apartment, silently until Saki murmured, "I'm proud of you."

"It's not that big of a deal," Masaomi murmured dismissively.

"Baby steps."

"Ah, I think I just got hit with deja vu." _I'll catch up to you one day, Saki._

"I can't wait."

"...Seriously, are you psychic?"

"Who knows?"

Maybe they would be alright after all.

* * *

 **author's note**

Two fics in one month! (just barely) I'm already off to a much better start than I was expecting. I'll admit, this was a little rough at times. College is really draining. But, I did have fun with this! A little known fact is that Masaomi was my original favorite way back when, so it was really nice to have him in the spotlight...even if I drifted to Saki quite a bit. And Izaya. And occasionally the twins. I'll get to Izaya and the twins in a second, but can I just say that I love Saki? This fic gave me a newfound appreciation for her, and it made me fall in love with Masaomi all over again.

(Quick disclaimer, I took some creative liberties again. Masaomi's parents don't have canon names. that is all)

And now we move onto the apologies. As usual. This will most likely be the last fic I publish until December at the earliest. I have a good reason, though! I have two multi-chapter fics I've started working on! One is expected to have seven chapters while the other should have six, and while that might not seem like a lot, it definitely will be for me to find the time to write it all. Of course I'll only be working on them one at a time, but I like to have my multi-chapter fics finished completely before I publish, just in case.

Anyway! One of them is a rework of my old fic, Our Little Secret, which has gotten a surprising amount of traffic lately... (please don't read it, it's Bad) The brief glimpses with Izaya and the twins were meant to serve as a kind of segway into it, since it will focus on the twins after Izaya's disappearance. The other fic is a surprise! Because both are longer than one chapter I will be publishing them separately, though they are both a part of this series. Be sure to keep an eye out for them!

As always, thank you so much for reading! (And thank you in advance for your patience.) I'll consistently be updating my profile if you want to stay updated. Well, I'll see you next time!


	11. tis the season (shizaya)

**'tis the season**

 _"it's time for the annual kishitani-sturluson christmas party, and this year, izaya has something different to confess."_

* * *

The culmination of Ikebukuro's Christmas spirit could be found in the fire that was started in the center of the city by a criminal clad in a Santa Claus costume.

Somehow, it was only December 2nd.

Heiwajima Shizuo had been minding his business, as he now often did, wandering the streets with his eyes drawn to each shop he passed in search of the perfect gift for his bedridden, annoying...ly lovable boyfriend. What had started in pure, innocent curiosity ("I've been thinking about decorating for Christmas") ended in - fortunately - nothing more than a broken arm, and perhaps a broken ego as Izaya's schemes failed to come to fruition. Mostly. Both of their apartments looked lovely now that the tree at Izaya's had been restored to its former glory, thousands of broken shards of glass and loose firs swept away (by Shizuo, unsurprisingly).

Needless to say, December was already shaping up to becoming perhaps the most chaotic month of the year, which spoke volumes. Already, if there was anything Shizuo had learned in the past year, it was that Christmas certainly wasn't the most wonderful time of year. So far, it was better than the previous year at least. Last year he had faced the mess that was Shinra and Celty's Christmas party, Izaya's sudden (not to mention drunken) confession, coming to terms with his own feelings on several matters, Izaya leaving and returning, Varona returning as well only to hold Izaya at gunpoint, and well, Izaya might as well have been a category all his own.

But Shizuo would be damned if he didn't love him. And naturally, with not only Christmas, but their first anniversary coming up, he was in search of a way to express that. He was almost willing to give up for the time being, exhausted after a long day of work and as evening neared to late night, until a parka all too perfect caught his eye. It was almost the exact same as Izaya's old one, albeit appearing much warmer, and the fur seeming all too softer, perfect for the season. Everything set in stone into his mind.

That is, until the building was set aflame.

And thus was the tale of how Heiwajima Shizuo chased Santa Claus down Sunshine Street, actually aiding in the criminal's capture and earning Shizuo five minutes of fame on Channel 666 News, if Izaya's omniscient smile told him anything as he trudged through the door almost an hour later.

"Merry Christmas." Izaya didn't even sit up from his comfortable position on the couch, smirking from ear to ear as he came into Shizuo's view.

Shizuo sighed as he walked past, standing in front of where Izaya's legs lay. "Scoot over. I need to sit."

Groaning, Izaya lifted himself up, resting his head on the arm of the couch, cradling his cast as he did so. "You sound like you need a drink."

"Have _you_ been drinking?" Shizuo replied as he took his seat.

Izaya merely laughed.

Shizuo maintained the silence as he got back up, trailing off to the other side of the room, sifting through Izaya's things without a care in the world. While he wasn't looking, Izaya stretched his legs back out, only for Shizuo to return shortly after.

"Let me see your cast."

Izaya raised his brows, cradling his cast once more. "Don't break my arm again."

Shizuo laughed in disbelief. "I wasn't the one that-"

Izaya's look told him everything he needed to know. Stunned, his hands fell into his lap.

"Don't make this awkward," Izaya murmured. "I saw the Sharpie. Do what you must."

"Do we need to talk?"

"Shizu-chan, it's been three years. There's nothing to say."

 _Haven't heard that in a while._

"If you say so, Izaya-kun." Shizuo reached for the marker he had retrieved from Izaya's desk, and Izaya stuck out his arm, watching as Shizuo popped off the cap and began doodling. Ootoro, Izaya's knife, Celty's helmet, and a stop sign were just a select few of his drawings, and Izaya's squinting was merely supplemental in him understanding that his scribbles were a little off.

"You are not a gifted artist."

At least he was honest about something.

"Whatever," Shizuo murmured, placing the cap back on the marker and sliding it over onto the coffee table, Izaya frowning as he did so. He watched as Izaya retreated the farthest he could to the other side of the couch, hugging his knees and staring at the TV, pouting in the all-too familiar way Shizuo had grown used to. Bickering was commonplace in their relationship, but serious arguments (or in this case, the lack thereof) were surprisingly few and far in between. It was certainly a relief for the two of them, but they both knew better. Even with all the talking they did, they were both absolute garbage at communicating. Izaya was the biggest offender, but that wasn't to say that they weren't both at fault.

They were simply far too stubborn for their own good.

Shizuo didn't bother saying a word, not willing to enable Izaya any further, and so Izaya remained silent as he always did, leaving them to mindlessly watch TV, the gap between Izaya's feet and Shizuo's thigh the shortest of many between them. Once Izaya left the couch, Shizuo did as well, heading home for the night without a sound.

And yet, when Shizuo returned home from work the following night, there was Izaya sitting outside the building, plastic bag resting in his lap.

 _You could have let yourself in._ Shizuo's raised brows told him.

Izaya shrugged. _Maybe I wanted to be polite._

"So what's for dinner?" Shizuo asked as he walked by, holding the door open so Izaya could enter. Once they reached Shizuo's apartment, Izaya laid the contents of the bag out in the kitchen: takeout, unsurprisingly, from Russia Sushi.

If Shizuo were to interpret, it would be something like, _I'm sorry, but not really, so have some food I bought because cooking is a legitimate apology I can't give yet._

Still, Shizuo said nothing. They ate dinner, Shizuo listened to Izaya ramble on about whatever business he had gotten himself invested in (in spite of Shizuo pressing him to not work so hard), and everything was almost normal.

Unfortunately, this persisted for almost a week. It wasn't until Shizuo's day off, and with that, their regularly scheduled date (this time not in the middle of the night, fortunately for both of them) that there was a silver lining, and a shift from the the awkwardness that consumed the two of them. Shizuo almost dared to say this was worse than when Izaya dropped off the face of the earth for two weeks, or hell, even their fight over Izaya going to America. Yet, the words "we need to talk" couldn't come out of either of their mouths.

That was when their phones buzzed simultaneously, a text from Shinra popping up on their screens. All they needed to see was, "You're cordially invited" for them to both groan and place a hand to their temples.

"I don't think I can do another one," Izaya murmured, and Shizuo could see the horror on his face as he recalled what he could of that night.

Shizuo chuckled softly. "Just don't drink anything."

"You make it sound so easy."

"Well, we have to go," Shizuo murmured, reading over the rest of the message.

Izaya held back his laughter. "We were horrible friends for how long? Shinra can get over himself."

"But Celty."

"...Fine," Izaya sighed, though it didn't take long for him to smile. "It can't get any worse than last year. Given we stay sober of course."

Shizuo mirrored his smile. "Deal."

. . .

"As long as we stay sober, you said."

"Hush."

. . .

The remaining days of December flew by, and before they knew it, Christmas Eve had arrived. The city streets shone with the glimmer of multi-colored lights while wreaths and ribbons adorned any and all lampposts, and light-up Santas, snowmen, and everything in between were posted outside the local shops. Deja vu came over Shizuo then as he recalled the familiar scene from the previous year, the only difference being that this time, he blended in with the dozens of couples flooding the streets with Izaya at his side. This fact brought a smile to his face, and for a moment, he sympathized with the Izaya (pre-broken arm) who, blinded by Christmas fervor, wanted to decorate. Glancing over at Izaya, he realized that his boyfriend couldn't even take his eyes off of the decorations.

"You know," Izaya began, cautiously sliding his hand into Shizuo's as they walked. "We picked the worst time to have our anniversary." Shizuo gazed at him questioningly, pressing him to continue. "Just think how many people will be celebrating tomorrow."

Shizuo laughed. "And whose fault is that?"

"Certainly not mine."

Rolling his eyes, Shizuo gently nudged Izaya's shoulder with his. "Speaking of that, when would you have confessed if you didn't say somethin' that night?"

Izaya pursed his lips in thought. "I'm...not sure, actually."

"Don't get hung up on it," Shizuo replied, reaffirming his grip on his hand. "Let's just have fun."

"Ah, yes. Fun," Izaya couldn't finish his statement without cracking a smile. "I feel like I should've spent the past few weeks praying that Shinra had a talk with his dad."

Speak of the devil. Once they arrived, it wasn't Shinra, but Shingen who welcomed them to the party. Once he was out of earshot, Izaya murmured, "He seems normal enough," earning a laugh from Shizuo.

As they rounded the corner, the living room came into view, just as packed, if not more so than last year. From a brief glimpse, the usual crowd was present - Kadota and company, Emilia, Egor, the Raira kids, Namie (much to both Shizuo and Izaya's surprise), the twins, Akane, and…

 _Oh, no._

[Hey!] Celty greeted, tapping on Shizuo's shoulder to get his attention. [Glad you could make it.]

"Wouldn't miss it." Shizuo replied, near deadpan, as he processed the scene in front of him.

Celty's shoulders shook as she typed, and Shizuo could only hope it was from her laughing. [Right. There was...a bit of a mix up.]

Akane tried with all of her tiny thirteen-year old might to restrain both of the twins (well, mostly just Mairu), while on the opposite side of the room, Erika and Walker wrestled with a sobbing Saburo. Off to the side, Kadota chugged his drink down in one fell swoop and immediately retreated to the kitchen for another, not daring to look back.

Sitting at the kitchen table was none other than Kasuka and Ruri, and a good portion of the people crammed into the living room were collectively losing their minds.

"Heh. Sorry about that." Shinra called from the kitchen as he meandered past everyone. "I thought it'd be nice to invite Kasuka and Ruri-san, but.."

Ruri bowed her head. "We can leave if we'll be an inconv-"

"Not at all!" Shinra exclaimed in tune with Celty as she typed. "We're honored that you made the time to come."

Shizuo glanced between Kasuka and the crowd, and everyone immediately fell silent.

"Damn…" Shinra murmured out of both awe and pride, and beside him, Celty's body relaxed in relief that she wasn't the one to stop the chaos, as was usual for her.

Shizuo and Izaya took their seats across from Kasuka and Ruri, and slowly the noise level returned to a more sensible volume. Ruri blushed, bowing her head once again out of gratitude while Kasuka, as expressionless as ever, simply nodded in acknowledgement to his brother and Izaya.

"Never expected to see you two here," Shizuo said, finally able to smile upon seeing Kasuka.

"Kishitani-san and Sturluson-san have been nothing but kind, so we thought we'd return the favor," Kasuka replied, Ruri nodding in agreement beside him.

Speaking of Celty, it was hard for anyone sitting at the table to miss her as she circled around, lingering near Izaya until she finally brought herself to approach him, visibly struggling as she typed. [Would you like to help out with the hot pot? Shizuo claims you're a good cook.]

"I thought you'd never ask," Izaya responded, and Shizuo cracked a smile at the tiniest bit of shakiness in his voice. Shinra was a genius, specifically making each Christmas party a hot pot party.

There was still some animosity in the room towards Izaya, evident by the glares on Masaomi and Erika's faces as Izaya followed Celty, but slowly but surely, he was fitting in. Shizuo felt a bit of pride well up in his chest.

 _If he can change, anyone can._

"Can I interest any of you in a drink?"

Shingen's sudden question snapped Shizuo out of his thoughts, and he immediately shook his head. "I'll pass." _Dammit Shinra, you had one job._

"Come now, Shizuo-kun, it's Christmas," Shingen replied in a tone eerily (and unsurprisingly) reminding him of Shinra.

With a false smile he hadn't had to use in quite some time, Shizuo said, "Maybe later."

. . .

Later evidently wasn't much later.

Once the hot pot finished simmering, Celty and Izaya each carried a pot into the living room, setting them down in front of the many starving guests who quickly ceased talking once they saw the food. Mairu and Kururi were the first two to get their servings, fighting tooth and nail (again, mostly Mairu) to be the first to taste that savory goodness. Naturally, Izaya waited until after they finished eating to brag about they were willing to eat his cooking, which led to a battle neither Izaya nor Mairu were willing to back down from.

"Guess it runs in the family," Shizuo murmured, earning a laugh from Kadota and Namie.

For a while, all was fine. Food simply had that effect. It was almost a completely ordinary Christmas party - until Shingen, once again, slowly infected everyone with the contagious disease of drunkenness. Before anyone knew it, everything began to turn upside down. Kasuka had made the mistake of attempting to talk to Mairu and Kururi, essentially sibling-in-law to siblings-in-law, and with Ruri alone, and Saburo left to his own devices, both encounters went about as well as anyone would expect. Erika ran off to the bathroom with Anri in tow, and both girls returned wearing sexy Santa dresses, Erika leagues more comfortable than Anri. Mikado attempted to look anywhere but at his girlfriend out of embarrassment as Masaomi teased him and Saki wasted no time taking pictures. Namie and Kadota sat off to the side, sipping their drinks with cautious glances to the chaos around them, rolling their eyes at whatever Izaya was telling them. Akane, dazed and confused amidst the chaos, retreated and hid behind Shizuo, who was just as dazed.

"Shingen-san," he murmured. "I think I'll take that drink now." He could only imagine that Shingen was smiling (rather devilishly, in that Kishitani way) underneath his gas mask as he handed him a can of beer.

It didn't take him long to recognize the matching can in Izaya's hand as he laughed as Namie shoved him as hard as she could without pushing him out of his chair.

As chaotic as the Kishitani-Sturluson apartment was, in a way, Shizuo reasoned, it was also serene seeing this eclectic bunch gathered together. There were, of course, the hosts, striding through the beginning of what Shizuo knew in his heart would be a long, happily married life. One look at them sitting together, Shinra's head resting on Celty's shoulder, brought Shizuo back to their wedding day. He'd never forget how obnoxiously (and endearingly) Shinra had sobbed upon seeing Celty in her dress, and how if Celty could have cried, she probably would have as she typed her vows. They weren't your typical couple, but they almost made Shizuo believe in something like soulmates.

On the topic of atypical was Kadota and company. Kadota was as dismissive as always, sitting away from his friends - rather, his family - with his hand glued to his temple, but every once in a while, one could catch him gazing between Saburo, Erika, and Walker with an undeniable fondness. Erika and Walker had disappeared to a corner of the room, huddled together watching a new anime episode on Walker's phone and snickering over something. (Shizuo misheard them saying torture, right?) In the opposite corner of the room lay Saburo, so overcome with happiness from seeing his idol in person and so very, very drunk that his brain essentially ceased to function, useless except for quietly singing Ruri's songs to himself. They were the same as always.

In the middle of the room sat the Raira kids, each of them looking older than Shizuo figured they should look, until he realized that all of them, the twins included, were now attending Raira University. He couldn't say much about any of them except for the twins of course, along with Masaomi, aside from the fact that he wondered why they always showed up as if at Shinra and Celty's beck and call. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves regardless, holding hands and laughing without a care in the world. Masaomi had pushed aside his grudge against Izaya for the night, and Shizuo felt oddly proud, reflecting on their conversation from earlier that year.

And he couldn't forget Akane of course, who had now (rather reluctantly) joined the Raira kids at Mairu's request (re: demand). She was completely out of place in the group in many ways, but she had at least gained the courage to leave Mairu's side and talk to the others, particularly Saki. Shizuo couldn't really blame her for having trust issues, all things considered. Things were still awkward between her and her family, but Akane was working hard to grow as a person, artist, and fighter. Unfortunately Shizuo was still oblivious to her true motivation for wanting to become stronger, taking her other actions into consideration and believing that Akane simply idolized him, but after all, ignorance is bliss.

Attached at the hip with Izaya was Namie, something no one in the room, especially Namie herself, would have believed would happen a year prior. Despite her quitting her job with Izaya, this time permanently, they just couldn't seem to get rid of each other, and though neither of them would dare admit it, they didn't mind. Shizuo would almost say that Shinra had lost his spot as Izaya's best friend (mostly due to the fact that he was no longer his only friend), but if Shizuo had learned anything it was that Shinra was hard to replace. In Namie's case, replacing both father and son was a hassle, if her strangling Shingen, her superior, the man she had denied to work for for so long, more than once in the span of an hour proved anything. Shingen stumbled away dejectedly back to Emilia and Egor, and Namie checked her phone, Izaya peering over her shoulder as she did so. Shizuo wasn't close enough to hear, but Namie murmured something that caused Izaya to immediately flush, and for a moment he regretted being out of earshot. Namie beating Izaya at his own game had become all too entertaining to witness.

Across from them sat Kasuka and Ruri, and Ruri was blushing along with Izaya, which only made Shizuo more curious - though Ruri was rather easily flustered, after all. At first glance, Kasuka's expression was as blank as ever, but there was just a hint of a smile on his face as he looked over at Ruri. It warmed Shizuo's heart to see them happy, especially after Kasuka's hospitalization. They had almost lost him, but there he was, the man of few words who captivated the hearts of many, hand in hand with the woman he loved, strong as ever.

 _"I got so used to seeing you in a hospital bed, I guess I never thought I'd see myself here."_

Truly, Shizuo had no idea what he'd do without Kasuka. Seeing him in that state had perhaps been the worst moment of his life, as he stood powerless, praying to divine forces he wasn't entirely sure believed in that his brother would be safe. Accepting two drinks from Shingen, Shizuo finally made his way over to the table, sliding a drink over to Izaya before sitting across from Kasuka once again.

Last but not least was Izaya, who was glaring daggers at him for giving him another drink - as he gulped down said drink. Together they had jumped straight from denial to acceptance, falling victim to a fate no one save for the minors in the room could avoid. Well, except for maybe Celty, given she didn't have a head. But - Izaya, Izaya, Izaya. Sitting there, teasing Namie, annoying Kadota, in general doing what he did best and fitting in like he had always belonged in this room. If anything going on in that room could warm Shizuo's heart, it was Izaya, no longer the outlier. He was as worthy of being there as anyone else, and this year, there wasn't a hint of worry in him. He was still the same Orihara Izaya - clever, cunning, charismatic, and carefree, but at the same time, he had changed more than anyone else in that room. Perhaps it wasn't even a matter of change, but a matter of perception, now that Shizuo had seen him at his best, his most vulnerable, and everything in between.

In that moment, Heiwajima Shizuo was completely at peace. After years upon years of isolating himself and spending the holidays alone, he - along with Izaya - had found a place to belong. This was what he had fought so hard for.

Yes, even Shinra's stupidity.

"Who's ready for some karaoke?"

Everyone collectively turned to face Shinra, stunned by this revelation as he carried a small karaoke machine out, placing it in the center of the room. Shinra sighed upon seeing their dazed faces. "Ruri-san, how about you do the honors?"

All eyes were on Ruri now, leaving her to hang her head in embarrassment once more as she pulled herself together. "S-sure! Does anyone have any requests…?"

Saburo, brought back to reality by the sound of her voice, called out, "Little World!" Shinra and Celty, really the only other Hijiribe Ruri fans in the room, nodded in agreement, and with their approval, Ruri took to the stage, grabbing the microphone as if it were made for her and pouring her heart into her song right from the slow start. Her voice was rather soft, yet it still carried the strength that had made her famous, especially once she hit the shift in the chorus. Erika and Walker retrieved glowsticks, from where no one knew, giving birth to two more Ruri fans that night.

"Her voice...it's almost as if Hatsune Miku herself is among us," Erika gushed, Walker enthusiastically nodding in agreement beside her.

Kasuka, to everyone's surprise, approached the otaku duo, accepting glowsticks from them and joining them in cheering Ruri on, his expression monotonous, but his heart full of love. Upon seeing none other than Hanejima Yuuhei join in, Mairu and Kururi did as well, borrowing from Erika and Walker's extensive collection from what everyone now realized was Walker's seemingly bottomless backpack. Glowsticks of various colors soon found their way to everyone in the room, even Shizuo and Izaya, who stared down at them curiously.

Ruri finished her song by the time everyone had gotten their glowsticks, and the microphone became the new baton to be passed to whoever dared sing following her near flawless performance. Sure enough, Mairu and Kururi were the next performers out of pure spite. Kururi's soft tone in comparison to Mairu's bold voice made for an eerie harmony, in a love song of all songs, yet somehow, they made it work. Mairu tossed the microphone to an eager Masaomi, who, once he opened his mouth singing about rats, was joined by a laughing Saki. Together they offered their mics to Mikado and Anri, who both profusely and as politely as possible rejected the sentiment. Surprisingly, Kadota and Saburo were next, and one had to wonder how Kadota agreed to it; granted, it was a party. Naturally, Erika and Walker followed, though they first argued for a solid five minutes over which song to choose, name dropping a long list of anime Shizuo couldn't even begin to comprehend and using a game of rock paper scissors as a last resort to make their choice on the slowest song of the night. Shinra was next, singing solo seeing as Celty was physically incapable of joining him, providing the third love song of the night, surprising no one.

And that is when the mic made its way to Shizuo and Izaya.

"Shinra," they said in near perfect unison, Shizuo tense and Izaya laughing in disbelief. Izaya added, "I'm not even sure how drunk I'd have to be to do this, and I can tell you I'm nowhere near that level."

Shinra just smiled. "I'll come back to you."

Sure enough, he did. Eight songs and an indeterminable amount of drinks later, Shinra offered the mic once again.

"Goddammit."

"If we all embarrassed ourselves, you have to," Namie called out, smirking.

"Do you even know any songs?" Izaya teased once they reached the front of the room, microphones in hand.

"Can we just hit random and see what happens?"

Izaya nodded and together they watched as the song title appeared on screen.

"Osakana Tengoku?" Shizuo echoed, squinting to read.

"You said let's see what happens," Izaya replied. "You go first."

Shizuo could only groan and listen to him, attempting to sing along - and failing miserably. Izaya joining in for ad-libs only made things worse, turning him into a laughing mess. Once the chorus hit, they were left to realize that they were the least gifted singers in the room, and at that point, acceptance reigned supreme once again as they purposefully turned the chorus into an abomination. Granted, the entire song was about fish, so it was already the most...interesting...performance of the night.

"You're both banned from karaoke," Shinra told them afterward.

"Good."

As they took their seats once again, Shizuo couldn't help but smile. "That was actually kinda fun."

"We're awful, though," Izaya replied, still laughing. Shizuo had a sudden urge to hold his hand, and he did without hesitation. Much to his surprise, Izaya accepted the gesture, though not without looking at Shizuo, looking away and staring down at his feet - yet affirming his grip on Shizuo's hand.

"He finally broke," Mairu gasped, covering her mouth with one hand and pointing at Izaya with the other.

"PDA," Kururi said in a near whisper, resting her head on Mairu's shoulder.

Izaya sighed. "You act like I did something out of the ordinary."

"For you, that's pretty out of the ordinary," Shinra chimed in, glasses glinting impishly.

"Aww, look at the happy couple," Namie leered, leaning in closer.

Now it was Shizuo's turn to get flustered with all of the attention. Unable to speak, he left the words to Izaya, who resorted to silence - and turning around to give him a kiss. Erika shrieked and "fainted" onto Walker's lap, Mairu burst out laughing, Akane crossed her arms, and the noise level in the room blew out of proportion for probably the hundredth time that night.

Shizuo's face turned red, and he gave Izaya a look that said, _What was that for?_

"That," Izaya whispered, "was for getting me to drink so much."

 _What happened to you being stupid and emotional?!_

Izaya could only beam, completely full of himself.

Okay, maybe Shizuo deserved it. He had lost count of how many times he believed he had subtly pushed a drink in Izaya's direction that night while he wasn't looking - which was difficult, because Shizuo realized then just how often Izaya had his eyes on him. It was cute, but defeated his whole objective: to make Izaya unwind, just a little. The past few weeks had been absolutely suffocating with how closed-off he was being. And, if last year had taught him anything, it was that Izaya became a lot more willing to talk under the influence.

Okay, yeah. He had gone a little overboard. Izaya was willing to sing with his less than stellar voice in front of that many people, not to mention kiss him, even as a tease/punishment with others watching.

Stupid and emotional drunk Izaya had been replaced with conniving, sly snake.

Unless…

Just as light bulbs went off above Shizuo's head, the room suddenly erupted in cheers of "Merry Christmas!" It took just one look at Celty standing amongst the crowd holding her PDA out, with "0:00" formed by her shadows for everything to click. While the others threw their fists and glowsticks into the air, Celty nodded at Shizuo, and Shizuo gratefully bowed his head in return. _Nice save, Celty._

"Alright everyone," Shinra began, clasping his hands together. "You should probably head home before the trains stop."

With some boos and sighs, and a whole lot of chatter, the gathering of friends, family, and acquaintances dispersed for the night, each paying their respects to Shinra and Celty before exiting. When almost everyone was out the door, Izaya finally rose from his seat, stretching his good arm out before heading for the door, not even looking back at Shizuo. Hesitantly, Shizuo got up and followed him, grasping for his wrist.

"Hey, can we talk?"

"Depends."

Shizuo fought back a sigh. "Let's just go outside."

And so, after saying goodbye to the Kishitani-Sturlusons, they did. Izaya took a seat on the railing outside the apartment complex, swinging his legs absentmindedly. Shizuo stood beside him, resisting the urge to smoke, an urge he hadn't had to deal with for quite some time. Fortunately, he didn't even have cigarettes on him.

"You already know what this is about," Shizuo began, lightly as possible.

Izaya hummed as a response.

"Izaya, please."

No response.

"I get that you don't like talking, but-"

"If you get that, then why do you keep asking me?" Izaya retorted. Raising his voice, he added, "How many times am I going to have to tell you?"

And, hypothetically speaking, the vein popped. "You can't just bottle everything up, trust me!"

Finally Izaya faced him, eyes near slits. "And why should I?"

Shizuo was stunned silent.

…

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Izaya averted his eyes, stressing each syllable of his reply. "I don't want to talk."

" _Izaya._ "

Jumping off of the railing, Izaya began walking in the direction of the station. "I'm going home. Don't want to miss the train."

Shizuo could only watch as he went.

. . .

He wasn't even close to being awake when the doorbell rang the next morning.

In fact, he had barely slept at all, kept awake by his guilt and his worry - again, something he hadn't had to deal with in quite some time. It was hard to not worry; Izaya was clearly upset, it was clearly his fault, and he had channeled his nervous energy into figuring out his plan of attack for the next day. Of course, their anniversary, of all days.

How typical of them.

He had expected Izaya to not talk to him for at least a week out of spite. He wanted nothing more than to rush over to Shinjuku and apologize, but at the same time, wouldn't he just get even more angry? He couldn't have been more thankful that Izaya was the one to show up on his doorstep instead.

"You're here…" He murmured drowsily, still in his pajamas as he rushed to open the door.

Izaya crossed his arms. "Against what I thought would be my better judgement, yes. You're lucky I'm hungover."

Shizuo could have joked then, but he bit it back, instead inviting him inside without another word, leading him to the kitchen and turning on the coffee maker only present in his home because of Izaya's frequent visits. Izaya hummed as he waited at the kitchen island, watching Shizuo brew him a coffee and as he handed it over to him.

"So…"

Izaya looked up from his coffee. "I'm sorry."

"That didn't take much."

Normally, he would have expected Izaya to laugh. Instead, he just sipped away at his coffee. "Don't press your luck… I knew you were right. I can't keep things to myself, especially when they're this important, and especially not when you have a right to know."

Cautiously, Shizuo circled the island and took a seat beside him. "We've… never really talked about what happened, have we?"

"I'll admit, it's mostly my fault. I thought I could finally embrace the fact that I'm not as invincible as I thought, but… it's hard. Unbearably hard, some days. Leaving it behind me doesn't work, either," he sighed, leading into a groan. "Dammit, I'm really doing this."

"I'm all ears," Shizuo reassured him with a faint smile.

Izaya met his gaze, though he couldn't smile just yet. "...As you know, after our fight, I was in a wheelchair until early last year. I couldn't move around on my own for a while, but with physical therapy, I could have been out within a several months. I didn't go to therapy, period, for almost a year and a half. I convinced myself that confining myself to that wheelchair was what I deserved. I was wrong about you, and that critical error would serve as my punishment."

Images of a battered Izaya came to Shizuo's mind then, nausea beginning to overcome him. He had never seen Izaya in his wheelchair, but seeing how he had been after the brunt of his attacks, it wasn't hard to imagine. Butterflies rose up to his throat, suffocating him.

"You told me that night that I wasn't a monster. That I never was."

Izaya nodded. "That's what our fight taught me. And yet, I became terrified of you. I'd tremble at even the sight of a vending machine. That's why I didn't come back at first. I wanted to apologize to you, but I was just so afraid. Sometimes, I still am."

"...You are?"

"I doubt I'll ever fully get over it, but it's out of my control. Nightmares, flashbacks, panic… in my mind, I have no choice but to isolate myself. The last thing I want to do is remember how much I hated you, feared you, but…"

Shizuo had to look away.

"Don't."

"But-"

"Dammit," Izaya said softly, before clearing his throat. "Shizuo, I love you. I really do. I'm so unbelievably happy that I've gotten to know who you really are. I wish with all of my heart that I could put the past behind me, that I could even begin to make up for all of the time we wasted. I decided I wouldn't run away any more, but I still am. Of course I am. I'm a coward. This month has been the worst I've had in a long time, all because I can't get a grip. I saw you hold my broken arm, and my brain just shut down." Shizuo opened his mouth, but Izaya beat him to the chase. "Don't apologize. Please. Don't. It's just unbelievably hard dealing with everything. Dealing with myself."

Shizuo remained silent, contemplative for more than a moment. "I won't, since you asked, but… Knowing that I've put you through that much pain… Is staying together really a good idea?"

Izaya reached out for his hand, forcing him to make eye contact. "Do you really think I would have stayed with you for this long if I wasn't up to it? I came back to Ikebukuro ready to conquer my fears and grow. I kissed you first, you idiot."

Finally, Shizuo smiled again. "I know, but."

"The last thing you want to do is hurt the one you love. Yes, I'm aware."

"Since we're sharing, is it okay if I…"

With his hand still in Shizuo's, Izaya interlocked their fingers. "Go ahead. It's only fair."

Quietly, Shizuo continued, "Just know, please, I'm not not trying to one up you here or anything-"

"Just say it."

Inhale, exhale. And just like that, "Not knowing whether you were dead or alive haunted me every single day. I couldn't stand the possibility of you being dead, that I really could have killed someone and not have even known. I was still angry for a while at first, but I started thinking a lot about what it would have been like if we got along. I started wondering if you were really as bad as I thought you were. And I hate that, even now, even though you mean so much to me, part of me is still stuck in the past. I catch myself saying or thinking dumb shit all the time. But you're not who you used to be."

Now it was Izaya's turn to stay silent in thought.

"Izaya, please just promise me that you'll talk to me. I know I can't even begin to make up for what I did, but if I can be even just a little better…"

There was a smile. "I suppose I have nothing to lose, considering I just spilled everything to you."

Shizuo chuckled. Weakly, but it counted. "Promise?"

"Promise."

"Hey, Izaya."

"Hmm."

Stubborn bastard, he knew it was coming. Shizuo sheepishly smiled as he leaned in, running his fingers through Izaya's hair to get him to turn his head. Once he did, Shizuo closed the distance between them, this time for a proper kiss, not the weak display from the party.

"Happy anniversary," he said as he pulled away, still cupping Izaya's cheek with his hand. _Thank you for finally telling me._

Izaya rolled his eyes before grabbing him by the shirt collar. _I won't make this a habit, but I suppose I promised._

"Happy anniversary."

* * *

 **author's note**

long an incoming, wee woo wee woo

Happy holidays everyone, and merry (early) Christmas to those of you who celebrate! Sorry this took so long to get out. I was planning to release this around this time from the beginning and originally I needed the two months to write, but I had to cut a _lot_ from this fic. Together this is only two out of the six planned chapters. Don't worry, I'll be publishing one more of those chapters eventually! I ended up thinking it would work better as a separate fic. That aside, I feel like this would have been a good way to wrap up the first wave of stories for this series (hence the long bit of shizuo reflecting), but there's still quite a few loose ends I need to attend to. Speaking of loose ends, there are a couple of edits I need to make to some of the previous one shots; nothing major, I'm just fixing some grammatical & continuity errors, so don't mind me. Also don't mind the chapter order shifting. I thought it would be best to open the series with a preface since it's kinda all over the place.

Speaking of errors... This fic addresses something that's been bothering me for a while, and I feel like I still kind of went through it quick, but. I realized that Shizuo and Izaya have actually never really, seriously talked about their issues, particularly what Izaya went through. I wrote about them a lot in liauc but haven't really brought them to light recently, so I wanted to amend that. Despite being in a happy, loving relationship, they _did_ hate each other for over a decade. Those feelings can't easily be forgotten, especially in Izaya's case as he suffered legitimate trauma. They still have a lot to work through together, and I will continue to address this as Izaya learns to open up and Shizuo puts his unconscious grudges behind him, but they have come a long way.

I have a lot of ideas for the rest of the series, so I'm definitely not done yet, but! A. I have a good handful of ideas for other fandoms currently (namely Love Live, Bandori, Fairy Tail, and Steins;Gate) and B. I've been considering taking requests! I'd love to write what you all want to see. Now that I finally have my muse back I want to get as much writing as I possibly can done. I have no clue what the upcoming semester is going to be like for me so I can't make any promises, but I'd love to publish as many stories as I did this year, even more if possible. I of course have quite a few ideas of my own - namely the Orihara family & Van Gang fics I've been teasing for months now, along with some good old (proper, finally) Namirona for my two (2) fellow shippers (join usssss) and some secrets! (wink wink) Seriously, I'd love to hear what you all want to see more of.

Now, in case anyone's interested: the songlist from the karaoke scene. The first song is little world, Ruri's song from x2, which I learned while trying to hunt it down was actually written by Toshiyuki Toyonaga, Mikado's voice actor. The more you know! (Almost) all of the songs sung by the other characters are their character songs from the show itself - Koi no Bakansu for the twins, Linda Linda for Masaomi (featuring Saki in this fic only, sadly), Fuyu no Inazuma for Kadota and Saburo, Kimi wo Nosete for Erika and Walker, and Diamonds for Shinra. The song Shizuo and Izaya sang, Osakana Tengoku, is based off of a video I saw way, way back in my early days in the fandom of their voice actors drunkenly singing it together. It's pretty hilarious so I'd recommend listening to them - and all of the other character songs, because they're all certified bops. (including the ones I didn't mention. seriously drrr doesn't have a bad character song)

Anyway! All that aside, thank you so much for reading! (insert heart here) Favs, follows, and reviews, as always, are greatly appreciated. Especially reviews. please. some days it feels like i'm talking to the wall. I doubt I'll see you all again before the new year so I just want to say thank you for making my 2018 with all of your support, and I hope you all have an amazing 2019!


	12. growing pains (heiwajima namiko)

**growing pains**

 _"as an eight-year old shizuo lay in his hospital bed, kasuka at his side, heiwajima namiko knew she had failed as a parent."_

* * *

As an eight-year old Shizuo lay in his hospital bed, Kasuka at his side, Heiwajima Namiko knew she had failed as a parent.

It wasn't because Shizuo had overreacted. It wasn't even because he, just a child, had picked up a refrigerator like it was nothing. It was because Kasuka, barely a kindergartner, sat at his brother's side where she failed to be.

"How is that even possible?" She asked many a doctor, the sight of Shizuo's little arms bent in ways that no parent wants to see fresh in her mind. The answer - hypothesis, rather - was mostly the same with each person she asked: the brain and body work in harmony to restrict physical abilities, though the limitation can be overcome by adrenaline in extreme circumstances, circumstances that Shizuo was somehow able to bypass. In a way, it made sense. He was just a child, and his definition of severity was fortunately nothing dire in his experience up to that point.

Except this wasn't immediately after the refrigerator incident. This was the second offense, following Shizuo throwing a desk at a classmate for making fun of him. The pudding incident was no longer a freak accident. Though the doctors' explanations made sense, though they offered fMRIs, EEGs, everything out there to find the cause only for Namiko to turn them down, nothing could stop the tremor in her hand.

She had never felt more ashamed.

It was natural for a parent to be upset with their child when they acted out. Shizuo was a rather quiet kid, but even he wasn't prone to petty arguments with Kasuka. That was nothing new. But the inexplicable fear that Namiko succumbed to was an entirely different matter. It was no longer a matter of, _how am I going to punish him_ , but, _what am I going to do if someone gets seriously hurt_? _What if_ Shizuo _gets seriously hurt?_

 _What if he hurts us?_

For a while, Namiko simply prayed. Prayed that Shizuo would learn to control his anger after ending up in the hospital enough times. Prayed that he would never seriously hurt someone. Prayed that her and Kichirou could cover the medical bills if this continued.

Prayed that she could be a better mother, not afraid of her own child and the uncertainty surrounding just what he could be capable of.

It took everything she had in her to not sob when she heard a certain exchange between her children.

 _"Kasuka, aren't you afraid of me?"_

 _"Nope."_

Kasuka was so lackadaisical when she could only dream of being so, but that wasn't the worst of it. That was hearing the pain deep in Shizuo's voice, tinged with regret from accidentally hurting the shopkeeper he had only wanted to protect.

He was just a _child._ But Namiko couldn't reach him.

. . .

It only got worse as time went on. Once Shizuo hit high school, he stopped caring about holding back. He came home with new injuries every night after being patched up faithfully by Shinra, which was a relief financially, but that was the extent of it.

Somewhere along the way, Namiko had grown complaisant. The damage had been done. Shizuo showed no signs of changing any time soon, and so, she gave in.

Shizuo wasn't the only one growing further and further away. Kasuka, like Shizuo, had always been more on the quiet, introverted side, but whereas Shizuo wore his heart on his sleeve, Kasuka wore many masks. Somehow the already monotonous boy became even harder to read, but it was hard for anyone to miss that he was attempting to balance Shizuo out.

It was strange, really. When they were younger, Shizuo and Kasuka hardly got along. There was still a connection between the brothers; they had started getting along a lot better in recent years, but for Kasuka to go out of his way like that was almost unprecedented.

Pride and guilt tugged at Namiko's heart.

. . .

They didn't talk much, after Shizuo moved out. He was an adult with his own life, Namiko thought to herself, he couldn't be expected to call all the time. Especially not with all things considered. But she could never make that first call.

Fortunately, Shizuo saved her from having to do it.

 _"Hey, mom."_

He sounded far too tired.

"Shizuo!" She beamed, the delight in her voice unmistakable. "I haven't heard from you in ages. How are you?"

 _"Alright."_

"You certainly don't sound it."

 _"That's not-"_

"Don't start that with me. You called me for a reason."

 _"I just wanted to check in. It's been a while."_

The last time they had talked properly, Shizuo had landed a job with his senior from middle school after the last...incident. She had never met Tom, but Shizuo had talked about him often and fondly enough that he was easy to remember, and essential in getting her hopes up. Everything was fine. He was fine. There was a glimmer of hope for his future.

"Honey, you know you can talk to me."

And now, it would all come crashing down once again.

"Shizuo?"

 _"Mom…"_ He began quietly. _"How would you feel if… if I killed someone?"_

Silence, both out loud and in her mind. For a moment, there was simply nothing.

"Did you?" The words came out of her mouth before she realized it.

 _"I don't know."_

She paused for a moment before asking softly, "Was it Izaya?"

 _"...Yeah."_

She didn't answer.

 _"Mom, I-"_

"I already told you not to start that."

He didn't.

"You really don't know if you killed him or not?"

 _"He hasn't shown up since."_

"Maybe you scared him away for once."

 _Who are you convincing, Namiko?_

 _"I doubt it,"_ he muttered. _"I just need to know that he's alive. I don't think I could live with myself. I just can't seem to stop causing trouble, can I?"_ He chuckled at the last bit, and Namiko wanted nothing more than to reach through the phone and pull him into her embrace.

 _I'm sorry._

 _I'm so sorry._

"If he hasn't shown up since, then there's a chance he's still alive, right? Have some faith in yourself. You're so much more than your strength."

When Shizuo hung up some twenty minutes later after reassuring her about his job with Tom, Namiko finally, finally let go of the tears she had been holding back for years. Once again, she prayed, this time, almost selfishly, that the man that had just about ruined her son's life was alive somewhere, that he hadn't turned her son into the one thing she feared he'd become...

. . .

...yet she'd never expected to see Orihara Izaya sitting at her dinner table.

Shizuo had never had a pleasant thing to say about him back in the day, trying his best to not curse in front of her as he vehemently ranted and raved just about every single day after school. Though he had stopped holding back his power, there was no denying that he almost didn't have a choice when Izaya was put into the question. Namiko knew she had no right to think so, but she hoped she never saw this Izaya after all he did.

 _"He's the worst!"_

"Mom, I want you to meet someone."

 _"He always has this shi- irritating look on his face-"_

Izaya bowed his head before facing her with a pleasant smile.

 _"He's twisted! You should hear half of the sh- stuff Shinra tells me."_

Namiko watched as Shizuo laughed, his eyes wandering to Izaya and staying there, hung on each and every word he spoke.

 _"I just want to fling him into the damn sun."_

And as they left for the night, as Shizuo's hand slid into Izaya's as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Namiko wiped a tear from her eye.

Someone had reached him.

* * *

 **author's note**

Hello everyone! Back at it again with an unusually short chapter...I wanted to write something for Shizuo's birthday, but I couldn't think of any concrete ideas (until this morning, of course), so I decided to borrow something from part two of 'Tis the Season. With it being Izaya-centric, I realized that this piece about Namiko was a little out of place, so here we are! I'm hoping to have the second part out for Izaya's birthday.

It's...strange, writing for a character that we haven't even seen in canon, but it's not like I'm a stranger to working with things that haven't been established in the series. Namiko has made appearances in both of my major fics (the phone conversation being taken almost word for word from liauc) in spite of this, and in light of a recent realization I thought it would be appropriate to write something for her. One of my mutuals on Twitter pointed something out that I think I must have conveniently been blissfully ignorant towards: there's no way Shizuo and Kasuka had completely loving parents with the way they turned out. Something was missing, and I have half a mind to think it all started with the refrigerator incident. But, I had already established Shizuo's mother as caring, and I like to think that she was: Shizuo stated in episode 7 that he had a normal childhood, and a normal family. So, I thought it would be appropriate to write about Namiko having an inner conflict.

So, as always, I have some sort of announcement to make. I mentioned last time that I wanted to get as much writing done as possible this year, and I'm already kinda off to a bad start, oops. I needed a physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, anything-al break after last semester, and though I wanted to write I had to let myself rest, so I'm a little behind. So, have a fair warning that I'll be a little slow.

I got inspired to work on a second, brief Shizaya one shot to put out today as well but I don't want to rush something just to get it out on time. I've been having some trouble, but I'm trying my best to write either a Namirona or Orihara twins fic for Valentine's Day (for the twins' birthday, no romantic implications there). I've made a little more progress on the one for the twins, so it might be the next one out, whenever that may be. As always updates will be on my profile.

Anyway, this chapter isn't a lot, but I hope the few of you who will actually read this enjoyed it! And of course, happy birthday Shizuo! Varona might have taken his spot as my #1 favorite, but he still means the absolute world to me, and I hope he's eating as much cake as he wants and celebrating with all of his friends.

I'll hopefully see you again soon!


	13. balancing act (shizaya)

**balancing act**

 _"izaya had never been farther away, and shizuo had never felt more powerless than in that moment."_

[ warning for focus on ptsd & mentions of attempted suicide ]

* * *

Heiwajima Shizuo knew all too well what the feeling of powerlessness was like. Anyone who didn't know him could argue otherwise, that a man with such strength could never understand what that felt like, but it was precisely because of his strength, his curse, that he understood. But none of the days spent in the hospital, none of the sleepless nights, not even a hint of the crushing loneliness that sometimes consumed him could compare.

Izaya had never been farther away, and Shizuo had never felt more powerless than in that moment.

 _"Izaya, please just promise me that you'll talk to me."_

 _"I suppose I have nothing to lose, considering I just spilled everything to you."_

A month had passed since their well-needed heart-to-heart and Izaya had yet to keep up his end of the bargain. Not that Shizuo could really hold it against him. It was hard, opening up. He couldn't even imagine how difficult it had to be for Izaya in particular. He had learned his lesson the last time, to not force him. That being said, he didn't imagine that things would take this sort of turn.

When they went to bed for the night, Izaya had made himself at home underneath Shizuo's arm, resting his head on his chest. Now as Shizuo awoke, Izaya had retreated as far as he could to the opposite side of the bed, clutching at the comforter as if his life depended on it. Seeing Izaya hunched over like that, Shizuo immediately scooted over to him, only for his stomach to drop when he saw the pure fear in his eyes.

"Izaya?" Shizuo murmured cautiously. Izaya's only response was a flinch, his body tensing even more than it already had. _Shit._ He swore to himself, inching backward. _What do I do?_ Shinra would know, but there was no guarantee for a quick answer, not at this hour. He could look it up, but what would he search? Inhale, exhale. "Izaya?" He tried again.

"Just do it, monster."

His voice was beyond broken, vulnerable without a hint of that false bravado he had almost died trying to maintain the last time he had spoken those words. That was the voice of someone who had given up.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Shizuo coaxed, keeping his distance. "We're okay now, right?"

No response.

Powerless, Shizuo clenched his fists, eyes downcast. "I'm sorry."

Something shifted, and when Shizuo looked back up, Izaya's grip on the comforter had loosened. His good hand slowly traveled to his forehead as he bowed his head, clutching at his hair and muttering, "Dammit."

"What?"

Izaya didn't look up. "The last thing I wanted was for you to see me like that."

Biting back a rather stern remark, Shizuo asked instead, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay."

Izaya laughed weakly. "That was easier than I thought it'd be." When the now flustered Shizuo didn't respond, Izaya scooted closer, resting his head on Shizuo's shoulder.

Shizuo flinched, struggling to find the right question to ask. _"Are you sure you should be doing that?"_ didn't seem right. "Don't push yourself."

He could practically hear Izaya roll his eyes as he buried his head further into Shizuo's shoulder - and the " _I'm fine_ " that almost left his mouth, instead replaced by, "Whatever you say."

After a grueling silence, Izaya looked - glared, rather - at him. For a moment Shizuo blankly stared back, eyebrows raised, though he soon cautiously raised his hand and ran his fingers through Izaya's hair.

"It's not your fault," Izaya reaffirmed aloud, immediately raising a finger and pressing it to Shizuo's lips the second he heard the gasp of disbelief. "Don't. It's all in my head."

Shizuo brushed his hand aside. "But it _is_ my fault."

Izaya sighed, detaching himself from Shizuo's side and grasping for his shoulder, guiding Shizuo to face him in the faint light of the room. "Ask yourself this: would you have really fought me like that if I hadn't hurt Varona?" All Shizuo could get out was "I-" before Izaya continued. "You always wanted to kill me, yes, we know. But what if I hadn't sought you out? Provoked you? Tried to kill you the moment we met?"

"Stop-"

"You might have dealt that last blow, but I'm the reason our fights even began," Izaya said darkly, breaking their eye contact. "I did all of this to myself, and got what I deserved."

"Do you really think-"

"I can't talk about this right now," Izaya murmured, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and bringing himself to stand. "I should go."

Shizuo shot up at that. "It's the middle of the night! You're not really gonna walk all the way back to Shinjuku?"

Izaya shrugged, hastily pulling a shirt on over his head and retrieving his phone and charger from the floor. "It's not that far."

"Please," Shizuo whispered, so quiet that Izaya almost didn't hear him. "Stay. I can go sleep on the couch. We can talk whenever you're ready."

Izaya lingered in the corner of the room, eventually letting out a sigh and taking a seat on the bed. "Okay."

Shizuo smiled faintly, and once he reached the doorway he turned back and said, "Text me later."

"No promises," Izaya shot back, and Shizuo didn't have to turn around to see that devilish smile, grinning to himself as he exited the room.

. . .

Understandably, Shizuo couldn't fall back asleep. The image of Izaya hunched over, his eyes so out of focus, all of his being so out of touch haunted him, and would surely only continue to. It didn't matter what Izaya said, he thought. This was his fault. He had lost control and done the one thing he had spent his entire life fearing he'd do.

No matter what Izaya said, he would never be able to undo the damage done.

As he tossed and turned on the couch, Izaya completely consumed his thoughts, though after about an hour or so he was finally able to move beyond his guilt and powerlessness, instead thinking of their more fonder moments. Mostly fonder moments.

. . .

 _March, the previous year._

"Oh, you _animal._ "

Shizuo grinned. "That's your first step in making it up to everyone."

Izaya, irate from being the one to lose a two month long bet that easily could have lasted a year - maybe longer - flailed around on the couch like an overdramatic, angst-ridden teenager, grumbling, "I thought we agreed on one favor." One favor for professing their love first. It was a simple bet.

But between the two of them, there was no such thing as a simple bet.

"That is one favor," Shizuo replied with a teasing smile. "You'll just have to do the rest yourself."

With planning for Shinra and Celty's wedding almost immediately underway, the topic was dropped for some time. Planning a wedding, especially when those to be wed hadn't a clue about it was infinitely more difficult that Izaya had imagined, not to mention the fact that he was keeping tabs on legitimately everything happening in the city. Fortunately, with Namie back at his side, that burden had been lessened ever so slightly, but there was no rest for the wicked.

 _"Maybe I just want to be nice. Guess you still don't know a whole lot about that, huh."_

It had been a one-off line, a joke more than anything, and yet Shizuo's words stuck with him.

"You know," he began one night, huddled over his laptop looking at so many tablecloths to the point they all blended together. "It's really frightening realizing that whenever you've done any shred of good in your life it was done with an ulterior motive."

Shizuo didn't respond at first, quirking his brows in pure confusion, glancing from Izaya to the laptop, from the laptop to Izaya before he asked, "Jesus, are you okay?"

Izaya ignored his question. "I saved a girl from human traffickers only to somewhat inadvertently convince her to kill herself. I brought multiple abused children out of their home situations only to brainwash them. I dated a girl who truly loved me knowing I would never find it in my heart to love her."

As his rambling became more frantic, Shizuo hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder. "Breathe, Izaya."

"And you know what?" Shizuo could only groan. "I don't even regret all of it."

Shizuo reaffirmed his grip on Izaya's shoulder. "Maybe you should just stop talking."

Izaya nodded, resuming his mindless browsing through the selection of tablecloths. Shizuo peered over his shoulder, trying to keep up and wondering to himself, _Is it really that big of a deal? It's a tablecloth._ And before he knew it he was speaking again, already uncomfortable with Izaya's silence. "You really want to change, right?"

"I'm dating you, I may as well be a saint already," Izaya murmured, earning a scowl from Shizuo. With a sigh he tabbed back to his planning document, typing and saying aloud, "Note to self, Shizu-chan can't handle sarcasm."

"Was it really sarcasm?"

"Undecided."

"I'm serious. What are you gonna do?"

Suppressing a sigh, Izaya pushed his laptop to the far side of the coffee table, his eyes still on it, unable to meet Shizuo's gaze. "What am I going to do..."

. . .

 _May._

 _"Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable."_

Before he could start what was undeniably going to be a very long, passionate, vaguely incoherent rant, Shizuo moved his phone a few inches away from his ear and asked, "What's going on? Are you okay?"

 _"I was just at the convenience store, and there was this girl in front of me who couldn't afford everything, so I paid for her. You know, like a good samaritan. Who am I?"_

"Izaya. Calm. Down." Tom and Varona gazed at him curiously, and he gave them a reassuring wave.

 _"I need to ruin this somehow."_ God, he was an awful listener.

"No, you don't." Shizuo sighed, turning back to his friends and frowning. "Just go home. I'll be there after I'm done."

At least he was trying, right?

Once Shizuo was off of work for the night, he arrived at Izaya's place as promised and after a brief period of peace resumed their earlier conversation. "Hey."

"What."

Shizuo moved closer to Izaya's side, draping his arm around him. "If you stop thinking about being good and just do it naturally, I think it'll be a lot easier for you."

Izaya turned his head, eyes narrowed. "...You're severely overestimating my natural kindness."

"I don't think so," Shizuo replied, laughing to himself. "You gave me your umbrella the first time we met after all that time apart."

"Compensation."

"You got me cake for my birthday."

"Obligation."

"You're planning Shinra and Celty's wedding."

"Shinra was my only friend for the majority of my life. Next."

Shizuo pulled his arm back only to bury his head in his hands. When he regained his composure, he asked, "Do you enjoy being an asshole?"

"It isn't that I enjoy it," Izaya replied, crossing his arms. "It's simply a means to get me to the end I desire - humans' reactions."

"But you enjoy it."

"But I enjoy it."

Shizuo tried to sigh and ended up laughing instead. "We have a lot of work to do."

. . .

Back in high school and in his younger adult days, Shizuo would have killed to see Izaya be this torn over his own morality and each and every mistake he had made. Someone needed to get back at him in a way Shizuo couldn't - though in the end, in a way, he himself succeeded. He'd be lying if he said Izaya's regret wasn't just a little satisfying, for all the anger and pain forced upon his younger self, but he wasn't satisfied. He didn't need to be.

Izaya could call him a simpleton all he wished, but under ideal circumstances, Shizuo was quick to forgive. If you gave him a reason to be mad, he'd hate your guts. But if you had shown something more - promise, kindness, friendship - it wasn't that big of a deal. Fortunately, it was Varona who had helped him discover this fact. Even after realizing that she was the rider who had attacked him, who had kidnapped Akane, who had stolen Celty's head, he couldn't bring himself to hate her. How could he hate his dutiful kouhai, his friend, the one person who had risked their life for him? _Him,_ of all people? Varona desperately wanted to change, and he would believe in her.

He could only believe in Izaya, too. It was only fair. Not a day went by in their two years apart that Shizuo didn't think about him, praying that he was alive, wondering what life would have been like had things turned out differently.

Now, he could only wish that he could turn back time and make things right sooner.

How could he have been so blind to just how much Izaya was suffering? Why did Izaya refuse to let him be there for him?

If he had just ignored that phone call, hadn't met Izaya at that construction site, stayed behind with Varona instead of running off...

Yet no matter how hard he wished, he couldn't turn back time. Izaya would forever carry the scars of that night with him, and it was all his fault.

. . .

When Shizuo returned home from work that night, Izaya still hadn't texted him. He turned the corner to his room, knowing it was all just wishful thinking to hope that Izaya was still there, peacefully sleeping, or at least hastily typing away on his phone, but he had left without a trace. Shizuo slumped down onto his bed, protectively clutching his phone and scrolling to Doogle, typing in his questions now that he had a clearer head. Izaya hadn't given a name to his condition, though it wasn't hard to find. Shizuo found just about every article on PTSD he could, diligently reading (something he honestly despised) each and every one, mindlessly slurping down cup ramen as he did so.

Still not a word from Izaya.

He would wait as long as it took.

. . .

 _August._

"I've compiled a list."

Izaya spoke without preamble, setting a notebook down right beside Shizuo's first glass of milk of the day. Shizuo squinted up at him, his eyes hardly open and his mind barely awake. When Izaya gave no clarification whatsoever Shizuo asked, "Of...?"

"Mostly everyone I've wronged in my life, how likely I am to try and make amends, and what I can do to try and make said amends," Izaya explained, resting his arms on the counter and looking at Shizuo with determination written all over him. "I've already excluded Masaomi-kun and Saki-chan after our meeting, and I think it's safe to say that Namie and I are on better terms."

Interest piqued, Shizuo grasped the notebook with his free hand, scanning the list of names. _Am I supposed to know any of these people?_ He continued reading, only picking out a handful of names he recognized - Celty, Akane, Varona, the twins - until a frown made its way onto his face.

"Why am I on here?"

Izaya chuckled. "Dating isn't exactly making amends."

"We're fine," Shizuo replied, setting the notebook down and taking Izaya's hand in his.

"If you say so," Izaya responded, his smile morphing into a smirk as he said, "You'll be missing out on a lot of things..."

"Like what?"

Izaya took the notebook back and said, "Now you'll never know."

Shizuo rolled his eyes, but his hand didn't leave Izaya's.

. . .

On the third day without a word from Izaya, it finally sank in.

He was still moving forward. Here he was, formerly the worst man in the city - the loneliest man in the city - restarting his relationship with his lifelong enemy, making new friends (and new enemies), and doing what he loved most: observing humans.

Orihara Izaya was the epitome of persistence.

 _"It's not your fault. It's all in my head."_

Maybe he was the awful listener.

. . .

Five days later he arrived home only to find Izaya sitting on his couch, chin in hand as he intently watched the episode of a new drama that Kasuka was starring in, that Shizuo had of course recorded the night before. Once he realized Shizuo was in the doorway he paused the TV, turning to face him with an all too awkward look unbefitting of him.

When Shizuo said nothing, merely closing the door behind him, Izaya looked him right in the eyes and said, "Let's talk."

. . .

"I decided I wasn't going to run away any longer, and I'm not," Izaya concluded about an hour later, Shizuo's face still frozen in shock. He had desperately wanted to know, and yet hearing all of it, from the wheelchair to the nightmares to how he almost lost hope, was almost too much. "And that being said..." He continued, managing a faint smile. "I think I'm going to go to therapy."

Relief unfroze Shizuo as he let out a reassured sigh. "Really?"

Izaya nodded. "Punishing myself is exhausting."

"Oh, I hate you," Shizuo said, smiling for the first time in days as he shot a look at Izaya. _Can I kiss you?_

 _You need to stop asking._ Izaya settled himself in Shizuo's lap, cupping his cheek with his hand and kissing him without another word.

"I love you, too."

* * *

 **author's note**

Hello everyone! Sorry for the delay; college really never stops kicking your butt, even over spring break. Fortunately I finally got my inspiration back! I'd like to thank SH for that, as after three long years I finally sat down and read it. Most of it. I'm saving volume 4 because I'm not ready to get caught up yet... Anyway! This is the fic I got the idea for on Shizuo's birthday. It's significantly less angstier than I planned on thanks to the flashbacks, but I hope the (hopefully) funny exchanges here and there don't downplay the message here.

I wanted to seriously address Izaya's PTSD since I haven't really done so since liauc, and even then it had little focus. Even here it's still rather downplayed. Izaya _has_ been going through a healing process for three years now, though. Obviously he's still struggling, but he's on the path to recovery. I'll focus a little more on this once I get to what will hopefully be Izaya's birthday fic. I will say that I did choose to cut out Izaya's talk because everything he would have said was already covered in liauc and I try to not be too repetitive. I can only hope I handled this respectfully; the last thing I want to do is make light of such a serious struggle.

I also want to stress that Shizuo's involvement in this is incredibly complex and was honestly hard to portray. He is still going to feel guilty even knowing that Izaya no longer blames him, and I can't say what is right, because there really isn't a right answer. Both of them have done horrible things, things that they regret. They still have a ways to go, and I'll continue to follow them on this journey of recovery, love, and complex morality.

In the end, this being a lot less sad was for the better I think; I like my stories to be hopeful. If you're struggling with mental illness, you're not alone. You can grow and change, and yes that sounds so cliche and unbelievable, trust me I'm grappling with it myself, but changing the way you talk to yourself and holding onto hope can really help.

Now that my inspiration is back, I hope it'll stick around for a while! I can't guarantee anything of course (sadly, thanks college), but I'd like to branch out with some new concepts for this series, like having genuine plots and focusing on new characters. I have something in mind for the next installment that's fortunately much more light-hearted and drrr-esque with its pure chaos.

As always, thank you so much for reading, and I'll hopefully see you again soon!


	14. home (anri)

**home**

 _"for the first time in years, anri dreams of her mother outside of the picture frame."_

* * *

Anri didn't see her mother in dreams often.

For years, she had always been there, laughing and smiling like not a thing was wrong. That much was true in Anri's dreams. Every night, the same scene replayed in her mind: her birthday party, where her mother and father smiled as they presented her with gifts and a tasty birthday cake, and together they were the happiest family. For years, Anri had hoped and dreamed, but that party never became a reality. Now, it never could.

With time, she had grown to accept this, and slowly her mother and father began to fade. Now she dreamed of Ikebukuro, riding with Celty through the city at night, cosplaying with Erika, going to the mall with Mika like old times, and most importantly, she dreamed of the rooftop where Mikado, Masaomi, and Saki were always waiting for her.

Finally, she was free to dream of the future, no longer bound by her past.

Though the past could still come back to haunt her.

In her dream that night, Anri was a child again, settled in her mother's lap as Sayaka braided her hair, humming a lullaby as she did so. Humming soon turned to singing, and before she knew it, Anri was singing quietly along with her. It was so vivid that she almost mistook it for a memory, and she lost herself in her mother's warmth. How she wanted to turn around and hug her and never let go, but once that thought came to mind she could only watch from outside, forever a bystander in her own life.

"I'll always love you, my darling," Sayaka whispered, pressing a quick kiss to Anri's head.

Anri beamed, ignorant in all of her childlike glory as she replied, "Of course mommy! I'll always love you, too."

From outside the picture frame, Anri could see the melancholy masked behind Sayaka's smile.

"And I'll always be here for you," Sayaka added, running her fingers through Anri's hair, playing with the braids. "No matter what."

The younger Anri giggled. "You're being silly, mommy."

 _Hug her._ She pleaded with her younger self, helplessly watching. It was only a matter of time before her father showed up and took Sayaka away from her. Fear tugged at her heart as she envisioned her father, consumed by rage and tearing the two apart, his hands digging into Sayaka's neck until she took her last breath.

Her father never showed up, and Anri released a sigh she didn't know she was holding. Before she knew it she was back in her mother's embrace, and she remained there with her until she woke up, tears streaming down her face.

It had been exactly seven years since that night, and it never got any easier.

How could it, when every day she bore the weight of her father's hands around her own neck, the bruises hidden by baggy sleeves and long skirts, the blood that soaked the floor of her childhood home as her father's eyes glassed over, the glowing red eyes of her mother as she drove Saika through her chest, and the blood that splattered across Anri's face as she helplessly watched?

How could it, when the very sword that took her beloved parents away from her now resided within her, making them one?

Granted, over time she had mostly accepted her relationship with Saika. Said relationship was nothing short of complicated, but it was a part of her now.

 _"In order to save Saika, either you must wield total control and enslave her, or else you must relinquish all of yourself to her,"_ Kujiragi Kasane had said to her; clear, concise, and straight to the point. _"Sonohara-san, you're much too kind to both sides. You try to suppress Saika so that you won't hurt others. Meanwhile, you're unable to treat Saika like your slave. This path of coexistence with Saika you're searching for..."_ Kujiragi trailed off, meeting Anri's gaze over her cup of coffee. _"It's an act that will ultimately drive you into a corner. A virtuous person like you shouldn't be in possession of Saika."_

She shouldn't have been, but Saika was her burden to bear. Saika had spared her in the hands of her mother, and this was how she would repay the favor. Together, they would coexist, defying logic to do so. This was the life Anri had chosen, and she wouldn't go back on her word. She would coexist with the supernatural entity named Saika, and she would learn to love for herself.

Love, unfortunately, was ultimately a complicated concept that she still couldn't quite wrap her head around, even as the answer was right in front of her.

"Aaaaannnnrrriiii-chan," Masaomi droned, waving his hand in front of her face before promptly shoving his face in front of hers, bringing her back out of her thoughts. She wasn't in her childhood home any longer, instead welcomed by the comfort of Raira Academy's rooftop, and the friends that surrounded her. When Masaomi noticed her return to reality, he beamed and said, "Ah, there you are."

"Are you okay, Sono- Anri?" Mikado asked, blushing as he stumbled with her name for the umpteenth time. A week prior, Masaomi had insisted that the two drop all pretenses - ( _"It's been almost three years for crying out loud!"_ ) and naturally their polite natures gave them a rough time, leaving Masaomi to tease them every single time without fail. He nudged Mikado's shoulder as he took a seat beside him once again, and Mikado could only sigh.

"You're even more quiet today," Saki chimed in, and when Anri turned to face her she saw her friend's uncharacteristic frown. "And you've barely touched your lunch."

Flustered, Anri stared down at her lunch, her grip on her chopsticks near nonexistent. "I'm just not all that hungry. Sorry I worried you."

Even as the thoughts of her mother making her homecooked lunches when she was younger rested right on the tip of her tongue, she couldn't bring herself to say a word.

"Stop apologizing," Masaomi said in a tone both soothing and scolding as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. "We're your friends. It's our job to worry about you."

Looking up at Masaomi, she found the strength to reply, "Thank you."

Though the rest of their lunch period carried on like normal, Anri didn't have to turn around to feel Saki's gaze burning holes right through her. She said nothing, and carried her guilt close to her chest for the rest of the day, unable to find solace in anything. When she returned home from school, all of her obligations were afterthoughts. She curled up on her bed, still in her uniform, and closed her eyes. Without any comfort asleep or awake, Anri drifted in and out of consciousness, blankly staring at her wall when her eyes were open, and when they closed, she could only see her mother.

Each time, her image faded more. Once Anri realized this, she couldn't bear to close her eyes any more. Defeated, she sat up, gasping once she looked at her clock and realized just how much time had passed - and as someone rang her doorbell. Saika's tip rose from the palm of her hand as she crept towards the door, cautiously peeking outside.

Saika immediately receded once Anri saw Mikado's apprehensive face. "Mikado-kun? What are you doing here?"

Mikado blushed, intertwining his fingers as he searched for words he didn't have. Fortunately, two figures popped up from behind him, earning a sigh of relief from him and a startled cry from Anri.

"Hiii," Masaomi sang as he and Saki flanked either side of Mikado, resting their heads on his shoulders in a way that almost suggested the three had rehearsed their entrance, immediately disproven by Masaomi and Saki's general synchronicity.

With no further questions, Anri stepped aside so the three could enter. Masaomi took the lead with his head held high, briefly flashing a peace sign in contrast to Mikado and Saki, who both bowed their heads with quick murmurs of, "Pardon the intrusion" as they followed Masaomi. Anri wanted to smile as she watched them go, but her lips refused to move.

It was only then that Anri noticed just how much the three of them were carrying. Not a speck of wood from her tiny, barren dining table could be seen as bags of all shapes and sizes covered the surface. Bags of snacks, blankets, and DVDs caught her eye instantly, and without saying a word she turned to face her friends as they lingered in the corner, waiting for her approval to gather on her bed.

"Sorry for barging in like this," Mikado murmured, and Saki almost immediately added, "I'm not," only causing Mikado's blush to deepen. "Saki-san!" He protested, earning just a smile as a response. Defeated, Mikado continued, "We were really worried about you, so Masaomi suggested we stop by. I didn't think the two of them would go all out though..."

There was an almost terrifying glint in Saki's eyes as she said with that unwavering smile, "We're staying the night. You can't say no."

"I wouldn't say no even if I could," Anri replied, still unable to smile. "This will be my first sleepover."

"Really?" The trio harmonized.

The sparkle in Masaomi's eyes was nowhere near as threatening as Saki's had been. "And with boys too," he leered, immediately causing Mikado to shudder and for Saki to nudge him with her shoulder.

"Don't worry, Anri," Saki said, turning away from the boys. "If either of them try anything, I'll break their legs."

"Sakiiii," Masaomi whined. "How can you think so little of us?" Saki's only response was a half-hearted eye roll. Smiling, he added, "Besides, Mikado wouldn't have the guts."

"Hey!"

Saki laughed. "Would you?"

When Anri saw just how red his face was, she couldn't help but smile reassuringly, though she got more of a reaction out of Masaomi.

"There's that smile we know and love!"

Said smile immediately disappeared as Anri replied, "I'm sorry... I've really worried you all, haven't I?"

"Like Masaomi said, it's our job to worry about you," Mikado said as his rare confidence resurfaced. "Let's just have fun for now. No more worrying."

Masaomi rose from the bed, getting down on his knees and bowing in front of Mikado. "Thank you, O Great Mikado-sensei."

That managed to get a laugh out of everyone, even Anri. As she glanced over at her friends, Masaomi repeatedly bowing to pester Mikado even further, Mikado desperately trying to escape, turning his head only for Saki to wrap an arm around him and pull him close, laughing innocently all the while, Anri's heart ached with a feeling she couldn't name. In spite of everything they had faced, they were all so carefree. Nothing could hold them down any longer.

How she longed to be just like her precious saviors.

Seeing as it was Anri's first sleepover, her friends were determined to have not a second wasted, giving her little to no time to ruminate. Saki insisted on covering just about every middle school sleepover ritual known to man to make up for lost time, which was difficult considering the circumstances. Anri's apartment was rather small for a pillow fight, and considering both the presence of the boys and Anri's meek nature, truth or dare was a lost cause. Most of the night was instead dedicated to a movie marathon and devouring as much of the snacks as humanly possible. Anri tried to suggest making everyone a proper dinner, though they all immediately objected. Without a second thought, Saki sent Mikado and Masaomi down to Russia Sushi. Before they left, she whispered something to them that Anri couldn't quite make out, and before she knew it, they were gone, and the apartment was back to its usual silence.

"I'll make us some tea," Saki said, not giving Anri a chance to object as she gestured for her to stay seated. After a brief silence, she called out to Anri, "To think that the last time I was here I was threatening to burn your house down."

Anri blushed as she recalled that fateful night, and just how much things had changed since. Back then, Saki had been a complete stranger, and to realize now just how important she was to her tugged at her frail heartstrings. So much had changed, and yet she still couldn't tell if Saki had been joking that night or not. There was still so much she didn't know about her, or even Mikado or Masaomi. Cautiously, she asked, "So you weren't joking?"

Saki giggled. "That's a secret."

The only way to get closer was to open up and meet her halfway.

"Saki-san...thank you."

Saki left the tea to brew and took a seat across from Anri, meeting her gaze as she said, "You don't have to thank me. Besides, this was Masaomi's idea. I just...pushed him in the right direction."

In spite of her flustered fidgeting, Anri lacked her usual hesitance as she asked, "Can I tell you something?"

"I've been waiting all day."

She started from the beginning, with how, for a while, the Sonoharas were a happy family, and that happiness wasn't just a figment of Anri's imagination. She told of how, though she was too young to understand at the time, her father had become hooked on drugs. All the young Anri could see was the bruises her mother tried to cover up following an argument, and how those arguments didn't take long to become a daily occurrence.

As she spoke, right in front of her was her father, trying to steal her words away from her. She knew it wasn't her father, but the monster that had replaced him, though that didn't make it any easier to bear. Neither did the sight of her mother driving Saika through him, and then herself, right before her very eyes. Even still, she gripped Saika with both of her hands, the sword's mantra flowing through her veins and leaving her frozen. Saika spoke of love, and Anri wasn't sure that was something she'd ever feel again, if she was even allowed to.

"It was you who helped me see that, Saki-san," Anri said quietly, bowing her head. "I still struggle every day...but it's gotten easier, because of what you told me."

 _"I just told you, I really have no clue how to love someone..."_

 _"I'm just as clueless as you, you know. I'll bet there are fewer people who do get it. Before you know it, you find yourself in love with someone. Strange, isn't it?"_

 _"But I have no right to..."_

 _"But you do. Sonohara-san, you call yourself a parasite, but even if that were true, it's still okay for you to love someone."_

"Oh?" Saki drawled. "Would you say you love someone now?"

"H-Huh?" Anri stammered, eyes darting around the room anxiously. "I wouldn't say that..."

Saki leaned in closer. "Not even Mikado?" Anri was stunned into silence, staring down at her hands, unable to meet Saki's gaze. Saki laughed and added, "What about Masaomi? Or me?"

"You're all...my precious friends," Anri finally replied, still unable to look up.

Saki rose from her seat, traipsing to the other side of the table and throwing herself down beside Anri, pulling her into a hug. "You love us."

"Saki-san...!" Anri gasped, attempting (admittedly weakly) to break free of her grasp.

"Don't you mean Saki- _chan_?"

Anri didn't have a chance to respond as both girls heard the door open and as Masaomi and Mikado reappeared in the doorway.

"Oh? What do we have here?" Masaomi teased just as Mikado asked, "What's that smell?"

Saki immediately released Anri, jumping up and rushing over to the minuscule kitchen. "The tea!"

. . .

One narrowly avoided fire, Russia Sushi meal, and Hanejima Yuuhei film later and Masaomi and Saki had fallen asleep on the floor in front of Anri's bed, the credits to the movie enough to put them both to sleep as it played on Masaomi's laptop, half resting on Masaomi's thigh, the other half on Saki's. Mikado was yawning himself as he rose from the bed, tiptoeing over to the sleeping pair and turning the laptop off, setting it down on the floor beside them.

"We should probably get some sleep ourselves," he whispered as he reached for the bag of blankets, retrieving two and draping one over the couple before wrapping the other around himself.

"Mikado-kun..." Anri started, though as soon as he faced her, anything she might have said was lost to the night.

 _"Not even Mikado?"_

The sound of her heart pounding reverberated in her ears as she held her hands tightly to her stomach, only managing to say, "Good night."

"Good night," he echoed, flashing her a brief, warm smile before he laid his blanket out on the floor, curling up and closing his eyes, out like a light moments later. Anri's gaze lingered on him for a moment, wondering just what she would have said. What _could_ she say to him?

For now, she just needed the three of them there with her. Nothing more, nothing less.

. . .

She didn't dream of her parents that night.

When she entered her world of dreams, it was a land of nothingness, but there was a warmth to it; a warmth eerily reminiscent of her mother. As she traversed this land of darkness, it wasn't her mother she found, nor was it her friends.

 _Love. I want to love._

"Saika?" Anri called, reaching out into the darkness, Saika's hilt entering her hand as if it were made to be there.

 _I can love._

"But can I?"

 _You love them._

 _"Before you know it, you find yourself in love with someone. Strange, isn't it?"_

Anri awoke with a jolt, clutching her chest. Flustered, she glanced around the room, though Mikado was still asleep, and when she crawled to the foot of her bed to check on Masaomi and Saki, they were still asleep as well. With a relieved sigh, she retreated under her covers, closing her eyes only to be greeted by Saika once again, this time consciously.

 _Love. I want to love._ She repeated. Anri tensed, her mind hurriedly trying to come up with excuses, even now.

 _It's okay._

For just a moment, Anri could have sworn she heard Sayaka among the sea of voices that was Saika.

 _Mom?_ She cried out, though there was no reply.

Those words repeated in her mind. _It's okay. It's okay. It's okay._

She was crying before she knew it.

"Anri?"

She immediately froze as she heard Mikado's voice, and she instinctively pulled the covers up to shield her face. Not that doing so would stop him from scrambling to his feet, rubbing his eyes and taking a seat at the edge of the bed.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," she whispered, sniffling and hurriedly wiping her tears away before pulling the covers off. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, don't apologize!" Mikado insisted. He outstretched his hand to her, though he froze, his hand instead falling back to his lap.

The only way to get closer was to open up and meet him halfway.

And so, she reached out, placing her hand over his. The second their hands met, both of them blushed profusely.

"A-A-Anri?!"

Anri giggled softly, the last of her sniffles coming out with her laugh.

"Looks like you owe me 5000 yen."

Anri and Mikado flinched, turning at the sound of the voice from the other side of the bed. When they looked, Masaomi and Saki were resting their shoulders on the edge of the bed, Saki nudging a yawning Masaomi as she spoke.

"Man. I believed in you, Mikado!" Masaomi whined, putting his head down.

Grinning, Saki kissed his hair and murmured, "Always expect the unexpected."

Mikado looked back at Anri, Anri looked back at him, and together they managed to smile.

Sonohara Anri had no clue how to love someone, but that didn't mean it would be impossible.

* * *

 **author's note**

This fic has been a long time coming! How long ago did I say I was going to write Symbiosis...? Heh. I got really, really emotional over the Raira Trio/Quartet earlier last month and I knew I had to write something for them. Initially this was just going to be a cute, fluffy sleepover fic - and the angst appeared. I really wanted to explore Anri's struggle with learning how to let herself be loved. I think another part of her hesitance is not only her believing that she's a parasite, but the fact that when she did love someone, she lost them. Both of them. She's still nowhere near having closure, but she's at least taking that first step forward. I hope I did her justice.

Now for the usual sappy announcement session! It's really been a whole year since I started this little series... To think that I'm still writing it! I never would have imagined being able to do that, even this time last year. I've had so much fun doing it, though. So, I want to say thank you to all of you for supporting me on this journey. I'm just getting started, and I'm curious to see what I can achieve in the next year!

The next fic on my to do list is for a certain someone's birthday coming up... His birthday falls right in the middle of exam week though, so we'll see. I'm having a little too much fun with it, so maybe that's a good sign.

Anyway, as always, thank you so much for reading! Every fav, follow, and review means the absolute world to me.


	15. one day at a time (izaya)

**one day at a time**

 _"who is orihara izaya?"_

* * *

It wasn't often that he found himself nervous.

 _Was_ he nervous? If he wanted to do something, he did it, no holds barred. Granted, those situations didn't involve him making himself completely vulnerable, and around a stranger no less. Yet there he was, dreading the moment he made eye contact with the man sitting across from him once he looked up from his clipboard.

He looked up, and their eyes met. Izaya realized then that he wasn't nervous, but contemptuous, his distaste hidden behind his business smile: 95% fake, 3.5% mischievous, 1.5% genuine.

"It's good to see you again, Orihara-san."

Izaya bowed his head respectfully. "And you, Ito-san."

Ito Akihiko was a rather short and stout man, supposedly only in his early 40s, though all of his gray would lead one to believe otherwise. Considering just how disinterested his resting expression was, Izaya had gathered that he was instead rather impassioned and attentive - things one should have expected to find in a therapist, though Izaya had heard enough to know that wasn't always the case. He wasn't a particularly kind man, not that Izaya needed kindness, and he was also a bit of an airhead, but the two of them worked surprisingly well together.

"Not many people come back after their first visit," Ito replied, setting his clipboard down and giving his full attention to his client. "I'm happy to see you're taking this seriously."

Genuinely wanting to get help in order to change and going to therapy evidently ended up becoming two very different things. Izaya, master of telling people what he needed them to hear, found this to be his greatest challenge yet: condensing the tale of the past fourteen years of his life in order to properly explain just what was going on inside his head, and to someone who had never even been to Ikebukuro.

 _"All I know is there's that Headless Rider story. And there was that gang a couple years back...Dura something? Ra...ra..."_

 _"The Dollars."_

 _"Right, that's it."_

Thank the god he didn't believe in for client confidentiality. Not that Ito seemed to mind all that much. Honestly, Izaya wished he would show a little more concern as any normal person would when involving themselves with him, but he supposed it was a refreshing change of pace. What had this man seen in his career that made Izaya just par for the course?

That certainly got him thinking. Ah, in another life, he might have been a revered psychologist. There was something far more entertaining, far more rewarding about this life he had chosen, however.

For the following 45 minutes, Izaya did the one thing he could say with confidence he hated more than anything: talk about himself. Talking about himself was just so _frustrating_ , not to mention dull. For him, the best therapy would have been listening to Ito talk about his other patients, though seeing as that wasn't an option, he'd have to work on this lovely new strategy of grinning and bearing whatever came his way.

It wasn't all that difficult, surprisingly, which could more than likely be attested to actually talking things out with Shizuo lately. Some things, at least. That was where Ito came in - for the things he didn't quite understand himself, and for the things he couldn't bear to say even to Shizuo.

"Have you had any suicidal thoughts recently?"

As he had arrived at the most difficult part of his story, Izaya was temporarily back in that wheelchair, his own personal hell, desperately searching for something to stop him. Instead, he was met with the loneliness that punctured his brittle heart, shattering it like glass until there was nothing left. He wasn't sad. He wasn't angry. That was just it: he wasn't anything.

 _Not like this._ He had told himself back then.

"Thankfully, no," he said, and though he wanted to laugh and brush it off, he was met with his own silence. "Though I'm sure my fear of death would keep me from doing anything if I did." Ito simply nodded in response, scribbling down some notes. Unnerved by his silence, Izaya brought himself to continue. "It's not easy, though. Every time I look at Shizuo, somewhere, I remember."

"Normally I'd be advising patients in your situation to avoid anything that might serve as a trigger, though yours is a unique case," Ito responded. "How long have you two been together?"

"A little over a year."

"Are you happy with him?"

Without hesitation, Izaya replied, "I am."

Ito managed a small smile. "That's the most confidence I've seen out of you yet."

 _That's a first._

"So, Shizuo-san genuinely makes you happy, and yet you're still torn over your past with him..." Ito trailed off, clicking his pen in thought. "Have you two had any time apart at all?"

"I was out of town briefly a couple of months ago, but other than that, we're around each other just about every day," Izaya replied, smiling weakly as he added, "You're going to tell me to stay away from him for a while, aren't you?"

Ito chuckled. "I can't force you to do anything, but I can at least advise you. You mentioned Shizuo-san witnessing you having a flashback not too long ago...would you say that you've been experiencing them more often lately?"

Izaya nodded, taking in a deep breath before he spoke. "I have."

"And have the two of you been spending more time together recently?"

"...Yes."

Ito's smile was somehow both comforting and cruel. "Then I think you know what I'm about to say."

. . .

The warmest rays of sunshine early February could muster (which was refreshingly warm, Izaya noted) shone down on him as his gaze wandered across the surprisingly packed beach. All sorts of different people came to view, bringing a smile to his face. The breeze tousled his already unkempt hair and sent a small chill down his spine, though he stood tall, watching the sun set across the horizon. Turning to face his companion, he said, "Welcome to Hawaii."

With a sigh, Namie removed her sunglasses, clipping them to her shirt and folding her arms indignantly. "I should've stayed home."

Izaya shot her a sideways smile. "Don't lie to yourself."

"Watch your back, Orihara."

. . .

"How do you feel about America?" He had asked the second Namie had picked up her phone.

" _Ethically?_ "

"For a vacation."

Namie hummed in thought. " _Why?_ "

She hadn't hung up yet. Izaya smiled hopefully. "I need to get out of the country for a bit."

" _What did you do to Heiwajima?"_

"You always assume the worst of me."

" _Someone has to, these days._ "

. . .

Thus was how Namie had found herself accompanying Izaya on this spur of the moment trip out of the country. His argument had hardly needed to be persuasive; taking advantage of the fondness Namie had developed for the country during her time there was like taking candy from a baby. Maybe she just needed to get away from everything. These past couple of months had been rather overwhelming on her end, between quitting working for him, giving in and deciding to work for Nebula, tackling all of the scandals that resurfaced now that she was no longer under Izaya's protection, and handling her first ever relationship.

Maybe she had some secrets of her own.

Fortunately for him, Namie wasn't one to pry. Unfortunately for her, Izaya was.

He wouldn't hound her, for now. In that moment, he was just happy to not be alone.

After staring wistfully out at the ocean, Izaya took Namie by the hand and led her along the boardwalk, quietly taking any and all opportunities to people watch as they walked. Each time he said something, Namie gripped his hand firm enough that he'd immediately let go, and she snickered to herself with each victory.

After about four rounds of this, Izaya asked her, "Why do you keep grabbing my hand?"

"You're fun to mess with," came her reply. "I always loved a good opportunity to put you back in your place."

With a light chuckle, Izaya replied, "Past tense?"

"Jury's still out on that one."

He wasn't just happy to not be alone. He was absolutely _euphoric._

Not that he would ever admit that to her.

. . .

Though this was technically a vacation, Izaya still had his work cut out for him. He spent most of his days positioned in the middle of the bed in his hotel room, his laptop in front of him - at least fifteen tabs open at all times - and his cellphones surrounding him in a circle so that he could easily grab any one of them if it were to ring. On the bed beside him was Namie, lying on her stomach with her reading glasses on and her nose deep into probably the thickest book Izaya had seen, legions of sticky notes poking out the top as an assortment of colors surrounded her just as Izaya's phones did him, along with highlighters and her own laptop open off to the side.

That was how they had spent the first four days of their vacation from sunrise to sunset, only stopping at night for dinner (Izaya insisted on going out to eat, much to Namie's dismay) and a bath.

Two hours into day five, Izaya closed his laptop, gazing over at the hardworking Namie with a pout of a frown. "Don't you want to go sightseeing?"

Namie's eyes didn't leave her book. "What, you can't go by yourself?"

"I did invite you for a reason. Plus, we're in _Hawaii._ "

Namie scoffed, setting her book down in her lap. "You're such a child."

She didn't say no.

. . .

After a fulfilling day of dragging Namie all over creation, the duo found themselves back in their usual rhythm as they visited yet another restaurant. Namie was completely exasperated, but she still didn't say no.

Izaya was really about to test his luck, but he went in anyway.

"How do you feel about discussing an age-old philosophical question that has stumped even the brightest minds?"

Immediately concerned, Namie's glass of wine froze in midair as she attempted to form a reply. Her words failed her, and a quirked brow served as her response.

Izaya snickered to himself before clearing his throat and asking, "Who am I?"

"...What?"

"Who am I, in your eyes?"

. . .

 _"You have quite the story,"_ was all Ito could say at first, chuckling to himself. Two sessions in and fortunately Ito understood him well enough to know he could laugh. For a moment it made him wonder, was he really that easy to read? Granted, Ito was a professional. What he said next immediately snapped Izaya out of his thoughts.

 _"Thank you for telling me all of this."_

For the first time in a long while, Izaya was rendered completely speechless. All he could do was laugh.

 _"Sorry,"_ Ito continued on. _"You seemed rather uncomfortable, and yet you didn't stop. I appreciate you being genuine."_

There was that laugh again; not quite nervous, but nowhere near confident. _"I've tried to make a habit out of that lately."_

 _"Orihara-san,"_ Ito said after a brief silence, pushing Izaya to make eye contact. _"There's something I want you to think about before your next visit."_ When Izaya just nodded, Ito continued. _"Who is Orihara Izaya?"_

 _"...What?"_

Ito smiled. _"When you talk about yourself, you exclusively talk about either who you were or who you want to be, not who you are now. While you're gone, I want you to think about that, but don't press yourself for an answer."_

As Izaya rose from his seat, he looked back at Ito with a hint of a smile. _"I'll do that."_

. . .

 _Who is Orihara Izaya?_

"An annoyance," was Namie's immediate reply. Izaya opened his mouth to speak, though Namie immediately silenced him with a raise of her hand. "I wish I could just stop there, but you seem serious, so I'll entertain you. Just this once."

"Your generosity is admirable."

"That being said," Namie continued, rolling her eyes. "You're the kind of person I get the urge to stab at least twice a day. You're completely infuriating to be around, and somehow...that's part of your charm."

Izaya laughed. "Really?"

"You're horrible, but you're not as horrible as you used to be," Namie clarified, averting her eyes as she continued. "You finally let go of that facade of yours, so you feel more genuine."

"Namie..." Izaya began, leaning in and gesturing for her to move closer. In a whisper, he asked, "You don't still have feelings for me, do you?"

"I loathe you."

With a smile, he replied, "Just making sure."

. . .

As to be expected, Namie's answer stuck with him for the rest of the trip, haunting him alongside his desire to see Shizuo again. For a while, he couldn't tell which was worse. Fortunately, work was a good distraction, and Namie eventually became more open to the idea of sightseeing rather than staying cooped up inside.

It still went by too fast. As much as he wanted to see Shizuo, he almost didn't want to say goodbye to the beauty that was Hawaii. Namie was unsympathetic, apparently even more eager to get home.

"Missing a certain someone?" He teased.

"So what if I am?"

Well, she hadn't told him to go die, at least. She couldn't hide that smile of hers either once they were on the plane.

"I think I needed this," she murmured drowsily as she awoke in Japan. "And that's the closest to a thank you you'll ever get."

"I'll take it."

. . .

If there was anything Izaya was expecting upon his return home, it certainly wasn't being tackled from behind. He could only sigh as whines of, "Iza-nii!" filled his ears and as he tried to shake Mairu off of him, though to no avail. Either he had grown soft, or she had gotten stronger. Hard telling not knowing. In contrast to Mairu, Kururi kept her distance, slowly approaching and tugging at Mairu's shirt in an attempt to get her to come down. As always, Kururi was the only one who could get a handle on her sister. Once Mairu was off of Izaya's shoulders, he turned to her with a playful smirk and asked, "What, did you miss me?"

"You wish," Mairu retorted, sticking her tongue out at him. "That was clearly an attack."

"Well, it definitely wasn't your best."

"Hey!"

As Mairu puffed her cheeks out indignantly, standing on her toes to try to match her brother's height (and failing miserably) while he just laughed, Kururi murmured, "Dad...is home."

Izaya immediately turned to her. "He is?"

Kururi nodded, clarifying in her demure voice, "Warning..."

"I'm not too worried," Izaya replied with a hint of a laugh. "But thank you."

"Please come with us," Mairu whined, hugging his arm. "If we have to deal with him, so do you. Besides, lying is kinda your thing."

"I don't really have a choice, do I?"

The twins just smiled. Kururi grasped at his other arm, and so the three walked side by side back to the twins' apartment, Izaya's suitcase trailing behind them.

It was almost impossible to believe that the Orihara siblings came from a man such as Orihara Shirou. Whereas his children were all rather abnormal, Shirou was the epitome of normal. Though he was overseas more often than not, and though it didn't always seem that way to Izaya in his adolescence, he was a caring parent who only wanted the best for his children. That being said, he was unbearably naive. The man could not have been more out of the loop with the true nature of his children.

Lying was a game, and the Orihara siblings were winning by a long shot. Izaya could only imagine what the twins had come up with this time around. They'd had well over three years to prepare, after all.

Izaya hadn't even seen either of his parents since before everything came crashing down.

Once they reached the twins' apartment, Izaya had his sisters go ahead of him, with Mairu calling out to Shirou as she opened the door, "Look who we found!"

Shirou beamed as Izaya stood in the doorway, and he rushed to his children, pulling them all into a tight hug. "It's so nice to see all of you together," he said as he released them, taking a good look at Izaya as Izaya did the same with him. His father had grayed a lot since the last time he had seen him, his skin adorned with wrinkles, though his proud smile remained the same.

As always, their meeting was bittersweet. If Shirou had any clue what the three of them were really like, that smile would be gone in an instant. Well, there was no way of knowing for sure how he would react, but it wasn't something Izaya planned on seeing any time soon.

As Mairu said, lying was kind of his thing.

Now it was time to regroup, as he casually offered to make dinner, insisting that everyone sat and caught up while they waited. While under the twins' roof, he would be Orihara Izaya, successful financial planner, dutiful older brother, and a good man who loved humans and never found himself in trouble with them. He couldn't help but listen in on the twins' stories as he cooked, gathering that Mairu and Kururi were almost done with their first year of college (not a lie, surprisingly, though it was rather difficult for Izaya to believe), Mairu was dating a "sweet boy" named Aoba while Kururi "remained single" to focus on her studies, and they were both incredibly popular and totally not infamous for all of the trouble they got themselves into.

It was a good thing he was rather adept at hiding his genuine reactions, or else he would have burst out laughing right then and there.

"It's hard to believe you're all grown up," Shirou said. "I can't even believe you two are nineteen now."

Izaya snickered. "They haven't grown much."

"You take that back!" Mairu exclaimed, huffing and crossing her arms. Kururi scooted closer to her and rested her head on Mairu's shoulder.

Shirou just smiled and laughed. Izaya could only sigh as he watched the scene unfold.

Once he finally sat down, providing an overly extravagant meal that made even the twins momentarily praise him, Shirou finally directed his attention to him. "What about you, Izaya? How have you been?"

"Good," Izaya replied as he donned his business smile. "I got a raise a while back so I took a little vacation to celebrate. I've made some new friends. I was the best man at Shinra's wedding."

"That's great!" Shirou beamed, his warm smile piercing the part of Izaya that was guilty for keeping up this facade, even if most of what he said was actually true. "I'm proud of you."

It was in that moment that Izaya completely shut down.

"All of you," Shirou added, carrying on as if everything was fine. "So what about you, Izaya? Will I be meeting a girlfriend any time soon? And Mairu, I'd love to meet this Aoba-kun. He sounds like the perfect match for you!"

Mairu giggled, waving her hand dismissively. "Stop it, you're too kind. Aocchi is really busy with his studies, so maybe once he has a free moment."

Not even the blatant lies about one of Izaya's least favorite people on the planet could snap him out of his withdrawal. Instead, his mind was a steady loop of Shirou's words, over and over again.

 _I'm proud of you._

God, how he wanted to laugh. _Proud of what?_ He wanted to cry out. In the past, Orihara Izaya had been resentful. Resentful of his parents for leaving him alone with the two younger siblings he essentially raised himself, resentful of his daily life, his shitty, mundane life where the only way he could find the extraordinary, or even simple pleasure, was through tormenting the people around him. He was a manipulator, a delinquent, a scoundrel, and most importantly, he was weak.

He was lonely.

"I'm...not seeing anyone right now," he finally managed to respond.

Shirou nodded in understanding. "Are you happy?"

"I am."

"Then that's all that matters," Shirou replied. "I've worried about you quite a bit. You were always such an isolated child...but you said you're making new friends, and you're happy, and as your father, that's all I can ask for."

Izaya smiled - truly, genuinely smiled. "Thank you."

Not much later, he excused himself due to horrific jet lag (only partially a lie), waving his family goodbye before catching the train home to Shinjuku. Shizuo would have to wait a while longer. Every bit of energy he might have felt from his trip was gone in an instant, draining him and leaving him to immediately slump against the door to his apartment once he was inside.

"Home sweet home."

. . .

Back down the rabbit hole again. Ito's expression was welcoming as Izaya entered his office, though once again Izaya's apprehension got the better of him. Compared to the initial two sessions, this was a piece of cake. Ito knew his story inside and out; all that was left was to discuss the vacation, and the events of the day prior.

"I had another episode last night."

Interest piqued, Ito asked, "Did you see Shizuo-san at all?"

Izaya shook his head. "No. I guess I just got a little too carried about thinking about what my dad said."

"Would you say that there's a correlation there?"

Izaya sighed. "It's...a bit far fetched."

Suddenly Izaya was twenty-one again, fresh out of his time underground and formulating the very beginning of the lie he would continue to tell his father, that he was starting a career as a financial planner. In spite of being rather withdrawn as a child, he had come out of his shell and developed a passion for humans - something he couldn't hide no matter how skilled a liar he was. But his father was happy. Too happy, Izaya thought. Then again, Shirou loved humans himself. Nowhere near as much as his son, Izaya had realized, but more than the average person.

Finally, he had something to connect to his father with, though he would have to remain at arms length, as his father had always left him. In adulthood, he really didn't mind that much, but somewhere inside of him, a younger Izaya still longed for, yet resented, his parents. He would forever keep his distance, as his parents kept theirs.

Yet hearing Shirou say those words sparked something inside of him that he couldn't quite place. Regret? Guilt? Sadness? Maybe even pride?

Orihara Izaya was lonely. He couldn't let anyone in, not even his own parents, but for just a moment, his heart both swelled and shattered. Love was a double-edged sword, one tip always pressing against Izaya's heart, while the other lie in wait with whoever he involved himself with. Were he to get too close, they would both suffer.

There were some exceptions. Shinra had always kept Izaya just close enough to avoid the killing blow, and now he had Shizuo, his brute strength allowing him to control the sword at will, making sure that no harm came to either of them.

He couldn't even tell his father about Shizuo. Surely Shirou would accept the two of them over the twins' relationship with each other and Aoba any day, and yet the lie came right out. These days, Orihara Izaya was ridiculously self-conscious. He wanted to make amends, most of which he knew he could never make, but he also wanted to save face.

But what face was there to save?

"I don't have an answer for you yet. I apologize."

"Please, take your time."

Hesitantly, he said his goodbyes, reassured knowing he wouldn't see Ito again for another two weeks. His mind was in complete and utter chaos, and how he wanted to hide away from everything for just another day.

How he wanted to hide, yet his feet brought him straight to his home away from home.

Only after taking in a deep breath did Izaya's hand grasp the doorknob, and he silently cursed his anxiety as Shizuo came into view. His gaze was blank as he stared at the TV, the afternoon news hitting Izaya's ears, and the sound of the door opening reaching Shizuo, who froze in place as he saw Izaya. Hesitantly, Izaya smiled at him as he rose from the couch.

"Namie texted me."

His smile immediately faded. "You know, I'm really not in the mood for a lec-"

He had no choice but to silence himself as Shizuo pulled him into his embrace, his grasp somehow both gentle and firm, almost as a testament to Shizuo's temperament. Izaya allowed himself to fall into the hug, his lingering hands making their way to Shizuo's back.

"Welcome back," Shizuo said tenderly.

"I'm home."

Shizuo moved to let go, though Izaya remained where he was. Shizuo smiled and moved back to him, pressing a kiss to his hair.

Izaya couldn't begin to express how much he had missed this.

After an unusually long while, the two finally sat down, Izaya resting his head on Shizuo's shoulder as if not a thing was wrong, and certainly as if he hadn't been told to stay away from him. (Ito never specified how long, Izaya told himself.)

"So," Shizuo began with an amused smile. "How was Hawaii?"

"Don't freak out, but honestly, I'd rather listen to you talk. I'm beat."

"Damn, what happened to you?"

Izaya chuckled weakly. "You'll find out...eventually."

As he expected, Izaya hadn't missed much while he was gone. Shizuo's life had been as mundane as it always was now; a few petty fights at work here and there, meals with Tom and Varona on the daily, missing Izaya more than he thought he'd admit, and,

"My mom texted me, and I was thinking... I want to introduce you to her."

Izaya sat up, turning to face him with an intrigued grin. "Really."

Sheepish, Shizuo awkwardly fumbled with his hair. "Well, yeah. Are you okay with that?"

"My calendar is open."

. . .

Apprehension was all over Shizuo's face as he waited outside his childhood home just a day after his determined declaration, and Izaya couldn't help but playfully nudge him. "I guess you've never brought anyone home before, huh?"

"Shut up, you know I haven't," Shizuo grumbled, taking his glasses off and clipping them to his shirt pocket. His outfit was the same as always, sans the vest for once, though it was his pushed back hair that made the difference.

 _"Ooh, so fancy. I thought this was a casual dinner,"_ Izaya had teased him as he poked his head around the corner to peek into the bathroom, to which Shizuo responded by rolling his eyes and kicking the door shut. Izaya himself had slightly altered his outfit as well, trading in his jacket and t-shirt for a black button-up. When he looked between himself and Shizuo, he was almost reminded of Shinra and Celty. Somehow, it suited them.

Before he started second guessing himself again, Shizuo rang the doorbell, and his mother was at the door in almost an instant.

"Mom, I want you to meet someone."

Namiko's gaze wandered from her son to Izaya, and she greeted him at first with shock, though soon with a smile.

"Orihara Izaya. It's nice to finally meet you."

"Izaya?" Namiko echoed, and her face flushed in shock once again as she turned to Shizuo, demanding answers.

Shizuo's sheepish smile returned. "Yeah, it's him."

After taking a moment to process things, Namiko stepped aside. "Come in, please, come in! I need to hear how on earth this happened!"

That had to be the fastest anyone had gotten over their distaste for him. Izaya laughed to himself, and taking it as a response to her statement, Namiko beamed at him. Pride was all over her face. Finally, her son was bringing a significant other home. Izaya could see his father clear as day with the same expression.

Namiko led the two inside and they were soon greeted with a simple nod from Shizuo's father, Kichirou. Izaya was already piecing together a puzzle in his mind. The origin of Shizuo and Kasuka's natures was blindingly obvious, though perhaps it was a bit too soon to guess. Speaking of Kasuka, he couldn't help but notice his absence at the table, though it wasn't all that surprising. He had a busy life. It was a miracle he could even attend Shinra and Celty's Christmas party a few months back - and that he even wanted to.

Namiko directed everyone to take their seats as she brought the food over, and Izaya stiffened as he recognized the meal in front of him.

Hot pot. Of course it was hot pot.

He shot a look to Shizuo, though Shizuo held his hands up defensively. Izaya almost believed him.

"So," Namiko began, breaking the brief tension. "How did this happen?"

"It's a long story," Shizuo murmured as he filled his bowl, making sure to avoid eye contact.

Izaya smirked. "It's a good one, though."

"Is it?" Shizuo shot back with a smile.

"It all started three years ago..."

Shizuo's hand immediately went to his hair out of habit. "We're really doing this."

After retelling the story to Ito, Izaya was able to condense it with ease for the Heiwajimas listening pleasure, omitting the rather traumatic bits and whatever might paint Shizuo in a negative light. Namiko listened intently as he spoke, with Shizuo occasionally chiming in, and Izaya was stunned time and time again by that warm smile of hers.

Once it was finally time for them to head home, Namiko reached out for Izaya's hands, taking them into hers before he left. "It was so nice to meet you. Please, come again." To Shizuo, she added, "That goes for you, too. A phone call would be nice."

Blushing, Shizuo replied, "Okay, okay."

It was a win-win situation for Izaya tonight. Shizuo took his hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world, bidding goodbye to his parents before the pair began their journey back to Shizuo's apartment.

"I love your mom," Izaya said as soon as they were out the door, earning a laugh from Shizuo.

"I can see why. She was brutal today."

"We do it out of love."

"Mhmm."

There was that word again. No matter how content he was, he'd never quite get used to saying it, just like that, as if it was nothing and everything at the same time. Feeling his face flush, he grasped Shizuo's hand tighter as they walked.

"Is everything okay?"

Dammit. Nothing got by him any more.

"Why do you ask?"

Once again, Shizuo rolled his eyes, stopping for a moment to lean down and press a kiss to Izaya's cheek. "You're so frustrating."

"You love me."

"Yeah, I do."

He honestly could have exploded.

Once they got back to Shizuo's apartment, he did. Shizuo was immediately pressed up against the door as Izaya leaned in to kiss him. It was the first time in just a few weeks, but it felt like it had been years. Shizuo being, well, Shizuo, all night didn't help either. He didn't know he could miss someone so much until now.

Honestly, he thought it would kill him. When was the last time his feelings had been this intense? Had he _ever_ felt like this?

Well, it didn't really matter. What mattered was that he was kissing the love of his life, and he was over the moon.

"I love you," he managed to get out in between kisses, and he was so close that he could feel Shizuo's laugh just inches away. Those three words felt so _liberating_ in that moment. Perhaps he'd have to start saying them more often.

"I'm liking this brutal honesty," Shizuo teased as he reached for Izaya's hand, sneaking past him and guiding him to the couch for some more comfort.

Izaya positioned himself in Shizuo's lap once they made it to the couch, though before their lips met once again, he asked, "Want to hear something else, then?"

Shizuo's smirk could almost rival Izaya's trademark. Holding back a laugh, Izaya leaned in and whispered in his ear...

Shizuo's face was unsurprisingly bright red when Izaya could see him again. Slightly above a whisper, Shizuo asked, "Are you sure?"

No words needed, Izaya wrapped his arms around Shizuo's neck, guiding him downward onto the couch with a kiss.

Whereas Izaya fought back laughter, Shizuo embraced it. "Guess that answers that question."

. . .

Heiwajima Shizuo was the sun. That much Izaya was certain of. If Izaya was darkness, then Shizuo had to be light. He shone brighter than anyone, and Izaya wondered how for so many years he could have been so blind. Now, he didn't know how he would be able to live without him. They were such an unlikely pair, the two of them, yet they fit together so well, no doubt attested to just how much they had changed. Where Shizuo had once had the patience of an angry toddler, he was now kind and beyond understanding. He was genuinely funny when he didn't try so hard, and he had polished his wit to be able to keep up with Izaya in more than just physical fights. He couldn't even begin to list off all of the things he had grown to notice, every little quirk that drew him in further and further.

How could the same man be the root of all of his joy and all of his sorrow?

In that moment, he couldn't care about that. All that mattered was that he was happy.

He scooted up as much as he could with Shizuo's arm around him, kissing his chin rather than his cheek, though he supposed it was the thought that counts. Shizuo suppressed a laugh as he asked drowsily, "What's gotten into you tonight?"

"I think it's the hair," Izaya replied, maybe only half joking. "You should do that more often."

"Go to bed, flea."

. . .

"Shizuo, who am I?"

Shizuo groaned, calling back to him from the kitchen, "Can I wake up before I answer any of your philosophical bullshit?"

"No," Izaya called back. "Don't think. Just be honest. Who is Orihara Izaya?"

"Who is Orihara Izaya..." Shizuo repeated, grasping his chin in thought. "You're...the love of my life. You love humans more than anyone. You're more passionate than anyone."

As he paused to think, Izaya crooned, "Aww."

Shizuo ignored him and continued on. "I used to think you were the devil incarnate, but I'm happy I realized I was wrong."

"And what made you realize that?"

Shizuo hesitated, and his voice lowered as he said, "When you didn't come back."

Izaya didn't respond, simply making his way to the kitchen so he could see Shizuo's face, though he refused to look at him, his eyes wandering anywhere they could. At a loss, Izaya reached for his hand, gingerly intertwining their fingers. What could he say to him? 'It's not your fault,' even though it technically was?

"I'm here now," was what he settled on. "I'm not leaving again."

Shizuo released his hand, and for a moment Izaya feared the worst, though his fears were lost as Shizuo turned around and hugged him tight. Neither said a word, just standing in each other's embrace, accepting the silence.

Waiting for the day they could finally put all of this behind them got harder with each passing day, but Izaya knew they would just have to keep pushing onward.

. . .

In the following days, everything began to fall back into place. He and Shizuo were as normal as they could be considering everything, and life in Ikebukuro carried on. There was just one thing that haunted Izaya: Ito's question.

Ito might have told him that he wasn't pressed for time, but the clock was ticking as their next meeting slowly drew closer and he still didn't have a clear answer.

 _"When you talk about yourself, you exclusively talk about either who you were or who you want to be, not who you are now."_

All his life, he had perfected the art of studying other people, understanding every little detail he could, yet he had failed to apply that to himself without even realizing. He supposed now would have been a good time to start, but where was the fun in that? He'd just have to keep searching the only way he knew how.

Well, nearly getting kicked in the back of the head wasn't part of the plan, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

A livid Sharaku Eijirou came into view as Izaya spun around, deja vu hitting him as Mikage showed up behind her brother, smacking him to reprimand him once again.

"Eijirou-san, we've really got to stop meeting up like this. I _am_ taken, you know."

"Can it, Orihara," Eijirou grumbled, clutching the cheek that Mikage had slapped. "Taken by some poor soul who doesn't know any better, right?"

"I'm with Shizu-chan, actually."

The siblings' jaws dropped at about the exact same time. Eijirou was at a loss for words, so Mikage spoke up instead. "You're kidding, right?"

Izaya smiled.

"How..." was all Eijirou could get out.

"Anyway, let me ask you two something," Izaya said, eager to get off topic. This had been a chance meeting, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't interested in Mikage's answer. "Who am I, to you?"

"The bastard who ruined my sister's life." Ah, of course Eijirou could talk now.

Mikage scowled as she snapped, "What is going to take to get it through your thick skull that nothing happened?"

With no signs of their bickering ceasing any time soon, Izaya took the opportunity to slip away, looking back at them - and bumping right into another familiar face.

"Dotachin?"

"Stop calling me that," Kadota replied before he could even process what he said. Izaya laughed in response. Some things never changed. "What trouble are you getting yourself into now?"

"You heard, huh."

Kadota nodded. "And I guess you're gonna ask me the same question, too."

"You're awfully perceptive."

With a small laugh, Kadota responded, "You're a wild card, I guess is the best way to describe you."

"A wild card?"

He had no time to wait for a response as a female voice called out from not too far away, "Dotachin!" Erika came into view not much later, waving her hands excitedly - until she saw Izaya, of course. With a brief farewell to Kadota, Izaya crossed the street, hoping he'd have better luck on the other side. There were only so many people in the city that would be willing to talk to himself, much less answer his question.

Masaomi and Saki certainly weren't an option. Fortunately, Masaomi hadn't even noticed him, though Saki acknowledged him with a nod. As he turned the corner, Varona came into view, and she wasn't an option either, not knowing him well enough to give a proper answer. He could ask the twins, but they were naturally with Aoba.

It was a small world in Ikebukuro, and he was running out of options.

So he thought.

After about an hour of scouring the city, short ginger hair tied into a side ponytail paired with a blinding pink outfit caught his eye immediately, and he hastened his pace to catch up. This was an opportunity he couldn't miss.

"Well, if it isn't Manami-san."

Manami flinched, whirling to face him with a frown. "What do you want?"

"Just a moment of your time," Izaya replied nonchalantly. "I have a question I want you to answer."

"What's in it for me?"

"You'll never have to hear from me again."

Manami narrowed her eyes, sighing before saying, "You better not be lying."

"Who am I, to you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Who is Orihara Izaya?"

Manami didn't respond instantly, stepping to the side and leaning against a wall, tapping her foot in thought. "Your doctor friend told me something a while back. That you're more human than anyone, and that your heart is fragile." Averting her gaze, she added, "I hate to admit it, but that stuck with me, and made me think."

"Really?"

"I still hate your guts!" She snapped, folding her arms. "It just got me to think a little differently."

Genuinely curious, Izaya asked, "Is that why you helped save me?"

"I told you before I just wanted to be there when you died," Manami grumbled. "None of this changes what you did to me."

"It doesn't," Izaya replied, noting Manami's raised brows as he did so. "But aren't you happy to still be alive?"

"I...Yeah. I guess I am."

With a grin, Izaya walked on past her, waving and calling to her, "Thanks for humoring me."

He could just barely hear her murmur of, "Asshole," as he departed. There it was.

. . .

Sunset painted Ikebukuro's streets with warm hues as the day drew to a close, welcoming the bustling, chaotic nighttime that made the city home. All around him were people with unknown names and faces, names and faces he might never get to know, though that hardly ruined the fun. All around him, life carried on. A child cried on the side of the street and a Raira student immediately went to their aid, getting down on their knees and gripping the child's shoulders reassuringly. Off in the distance, a couple argued far too loud considering they were in public, though with all of the noise that filled the streets, Izaya could just barely make out what they were saying. Outside Russia Sushi, Simon dutifully called out to passersby in an attempt to get them to visit, as unsuccessful as always. A trio of Raira students walked by Simon hand in hand, surprisingly saying hi before carrying on. Far off in the crowd, Izaya caught a familiar blonde head of hair, another blonde and a head of dreadlocks on either side of him.

All around him, there were stories waiting to be told. People to meet, and people to part with. People to help, and people to harm.

 _Who is Orihara Izaya?_

Izaya laughed to himself. Like that was hard to answer.

* * *

 **author's note**

Happy birthday, Izaya! I actually made it on time! Barely. I was considering putting this out on my birthday instead since it's coming up pretty soon, but I actually finished. Wow! That being said, I literally just spent the past six hours straight working on this (not the entire thing, but a decent chunk) so apologies for any errors (and the pacing. good god this fic is so long). I'll be resuming my series-wide edits soon so I'll get back to this eventually.

So, general update time. I'd like to aim to get one more fic out this month since I won't be in school. After that, I plan on switching my focus to other fandoms (particularly Persona 5 and Bandori) for the summer. I have a lot of ideas that have been kicking around that I want to try out. I will come back to TSIE, don't you worry, but I only have about a year left of my fic writing career before I have to seriously pour my heart and soul into novels, so I'd like to cover as much ground as I can while I have the time. This is so crazy to think about, but I'll touch on that later. But anyway, I rarely ever follow what I plan so the next installment could very well be out before the end of the month. Only time will tell.

But speaking of my writing! I've started a Shizaya AU separate from this series over on Twitter! It's incredibly laid back compared to my fics, and I plan on updating it regularly once I'm out of school, so feel free to check it out if you're interested in shenanigans involving the drrr cast on Twitter! My username is miraihappyends, and you can find the AU underneath my pinned tweet. casual self promotion.

Thank you so much for reading! (insert heart here) I hope you enjoyed this. Please consider leaving a fav/follow/review if you did. I'll see you again soon, so until next time!


	16. death and rebirth (varona)

**death and rebirth**

 _"they come here seeking change, but change doesn't come easy."_

* * *

Russia Sushi wasn't one to get visitors while closing.

Catching the curtains rustle out of the corner of his eye, Denis called out, "We're closed," only to stop what he was doing when he saw who was standing in the entrance way. As always, Simon was the one to beat him to the follow up, meeting their guest halfway and saying, "Take a seat." Not a trace of his cheerful demeanor could be found.

With some hesitation, their visitor obeyed. In Russian, Simon said, "I take it you've heard the news."

Varona said nothing as she faced Simon. When he looked back at her, all he could see was the lost child who had come to him and Denis in hopes of training under them all those years ago; the child, so overwhelmed with emotion, she had no way to express it other than through getting blood on her hands. When he looked at her, he saw the woman who feared having the meaning of her life negated, but, more than anything, feared returning home to the man she had only ever seen the back of.

Her fear was gone. All that remained was the lost child she had started as.

Smiling with care, Simon told her, "It's okay."

As the world spun around outside, Russia Sushi stood eerily still.

. . .

When Varona had returned home, she had been, perhaps for the first time in her life, hopeful. Finally, she had a chance to understand and make amends with her father. She had a purpose and a place to belong, two things she had spent her whole life without. Her flight home had been a comfort to her. Whereas the last time she had been on a plane she was fleeing from home, now she was returning with her head held high, Sloan right by her side.

The chill of Drakon's gaze when he saw her again was enough to tell her everything she needed to know.

"Father," she said one day, willing him to just _listen_. "I believe I have underwent a metamorphosis in my time away. I am no longer a child."

"You haven't changed at all."

He hadn't slapped her this time, but he might as well have. "I request that you listen to what I have to say. Please-"

"I need to meet up with Lingerin," Drakon replied firmly, sliding his coat on and turning his back to her. "Don't follow me."

Another door closed right in her face. That little spark of hope she had held onto gradually simmered into nothingness, leaving her right back where she started. Perhaps her father had been right. She hadn't changed. Everything she had felt had been nothing more than a lie. Working with Shizuo and Tom, exploring the city, the thrill of for once, just _existing_ , especially in a city like Ikebukuro...in the end, it all meant nothing, she had decided.

Following her conversation with Drakon, Varona bid her childhood home goodbye for the final time. She threw her helmet on, mounted her motorcycle, and rode off into the night without looking back. She had no destination; she would simply go wherever the road took her - preferably as far as it could. This was the only way she could express the torment inside of her. She did have another option, of course, but her time in Ikebukuro would really mean nothing if she went back to that Varona: the Varona who had killed over one hundred people, who was one of Russia's most feared serial killers, the crow in the dark night who left only death and destruction in her wake.

She drove back. Without a second thought, she followed the all too familiar roads to what had once been her and Sloan's hideout. Sure enough, he was there waiting as if he had known.

"Welcome back," Sloan greeted her with a crooked smile and a gun.

Two criminal organizations collapsed that night.

Fear had plagued her just hours before, and now there was not a trace of it to be found. The sensation of having a gun in her hand felt so right. _This_ was who she was. Her first kill of the night had been far too easy to bring her joy, but following that, a smile slowly crept onto her face. Dodging bullets, throwing knives, setting off explosives, testing human strength... _this_ was Nastasya Voronin.

 _He was right._

. . .

"Why did you start fighting again?" Sloan asked her one night as they sat positioned on a rooftop, a sniper rifle in Varona's hands. Drakon had gained a new enemy while they had been gone, and Varona convinced herself she wasn't going to take them down for his sake but for her own, however Sloan's inquisitive nature once again got the best of both of them.

Her eyes didn't leave the reticle. "I lacked any other options."

Sloan laughed; a weak, yet taunting laugh. "You had a choice. Isn't that why you came back?"

"You say that, and yet you offered me weapons swiftly."

"You took them," said Sloan. "You're addicted. And you were delusional. That city got to your head." Noticing movement in the distance, he retrieved a handgun and fired into the darkness. Moments later, Varona heard what would be described only as a sickening crunch to anyone else. "We're assassins, Varona. This is a life you have until you die."

Varona scowled, her thoughts wandering to the now pacifistic Simon and Denis, living more or less peacefully far from what was once their home, though she said nothing. A man came into the view of her reticle, and after waiting for the right moment, she fired. Varona watched with a straight face as a man's now lifeless body slumped to the ground, the pool of his blood obscured from her view. She felt nothing as she pulled the trigger again, shooting a man who had cried out upon seeing his comrade fall. She felt nothing, but she couldn't stop. What good was an assassin who couldn't complete a mission? Perhaps Sloan was right. This was the life she'd have until she died.

What once made her feel whole now made her nothing more than an empty shell.

. . .

Knowing that her father was dead was perhaps the most perplexing thing Varona had experienced. She couldn't necessarily say that she loved him, or that he loved her. After years of never being enough, she felt a weight lifted off of her shoulders, and yet, part of her almost felt guilty.

" _Don't follow me._ " The last words she would ever hear him say to her. Even after all this time, even after struggling and growing more than she could have ever expected to, she still couldn't reach him. Now, she never could.

 _Am I weak?_ She asked herself yet again. _Had I gone after him, would a different outcome have occurred?_

Death had never been this personal to her before. So many had fallen at her hands, and she had never felt a thing. All sorts of emotions she couldn't name suffocated her. Everything had been falling into place. She was working with Shizuo and Tom again, she had made a friend and eventually something more in Namie, and she could simply exist, as she had always wanted.

Once again, she was lost.

. . .

Working in a restaurant in Ikebukuro had allowed Simon to meet all sorts of people from all walks of life in his time there. He was no stranger to these sorts of deep conversations, due in part to some of Russia Sushi's regulars, though this was perhaps the first time he was so closely tied to all parties involved. What was normally casual guidance and comfort became a necessity for the woman who had never needed someone more in her life than now.

Simon's opinion of the man he had known only as Drakon had always been lukewarm at best, so he supposed he was almost as conflicted as Varona. She said nothing of her time back in Russia to him, and yet, her eyes, so reminiscent of her father's, told him everything he needed to know. In spite of the distance between her and her father, losing him was more than enough to tear her heart in two.

" _Am I weak?_ " She had asked following her defeat at the hands of Akabayashi.

" _You're weaker than old man Drakon,"_ Denis had replied, to which Simon added, " _But that's not something for us to decide."_

How he wished Varona wouldn't base her worth off of her strength. He had seen far too many a soul do that in this city, often to disastrous results. Why so many felt the need to fight to the death in this peaceful country was beyond him, someone who had seen enough blood and guts for a lifetime. That was ultimately what had led Drakon to his demise; he was married to his unsavory work.

"Nastasya," Simon brought himself to begin after a long silence. Varona tensed at the use of her given name. "Strength is not something that is purely physical. Like humans, it is more complex than one might think."

"I am still weak," Varona murmured, hardly above a whisper. "My father was right; I am still a child. I have failed to change."

"But that doesn't mean you never will."

Something shattered inside this already broken woman, and Simon's first instinct was to reach out to her - though with Varona, he knew better. He would have to do this on her terms.

The last time Varona had been in someone's embrace was when she had killed someone for the very first time. After all these years, she couldn't keep herself distant any longer. With Simon's arms held out to her, she accepted the gesture and allowed him to wrap his arms around her. Simon might have been intimidating with his size, but Varona felt nothing but comfort. Was this what the embrace of a parent felt like, she wondered? It had been so long, she had nearly forgotten.

"You're not alone, in this city," said Simon. "There are so many others like you, and I hope one day you'll find comfort in knowing that."

"Thank you, Semyon."

Simon met her with a smile before lifting his head up, searching for Denis. Calling out to him in Japanese, he said, "Denis! Join us!"

"Don't try anything," Denis replied. "I _do_ have a knife."

Sulking, Simon whispered just loud enough for Denis to hear, "He no fun."

Varona once again found herself astonished at how thoughtful and articulate Simon could be in Russian, yet the exact opposite in Japanese. Finally, she managed to pry herself away from him, getting up and making her way towards the exit.

"Eat sushi next time!" Simon called after her.

He didn't get a chance to see her small smile.

. . .

"Testing human strength?" Shizuo repeated Varona's statement, and, with a hint of a laugh, added, "You almost sound like Izaya."

When Varona frowned, he averted his eyes, shifting his focus to clumsily twirling the straw of his milkshake as he tried to get back on topic. "There's this dojo that Akane goes to: Rakuei Gym. Maybe you could be an instructor there?"

"A dojo?" Varona asked, putting her chin in her hand in thought, mindlessly watching the passersby just outside of Lottalia. Simon's words played in the back of her mind as she watched, leaving her to take a moment to add, "That might be my solution."

"I can try and talk to the boss about rescheduling your hours if you need me to," Tom offered. "Y'know, if you'd be up for having two jobs."

Varona nodded. "I will have to see. Shizuo-senpai, will you take me to this dojo tonight?"

"Yeah, sure thing." Varona found herself puzzled by his oddly prideful smile.

Once they had finished their lunch break, the trio set back out onto the streets. They fortunately only ran into two problems during the remainder of the work day - a man who tried to run away, and another who tried to hit on Varona. So, so many men in the city had made that mistake, Varona had realized.

Well, they did collect for a dating website.

Just like every other man before him, this one ended up on the ground, Varona's heel threatening to crush his spine (or at the very least, attempt to) with one wrong move.

"You don't have to beat them all up, you know," Tom said as they left the man's apartment behind them. "You're wasting your energy."

"They deserve it," Shizuo murmured, earning what was almost a glare from Tom, though it promptly turned into a laugh.

"I never said they didn't."

Sighing, Varona said, "They _are_ frustrating. However, fighting...it is the reason I exist."

"All the more reason for you to go to that dojo," Shizuo said innocuously.

Sure enough, Shizuo kept his promise. Once their shift ended, the pair bid farewell to Tom and Varona followed Shizuo to the other side of town, her attention fixated on their favorite bakery as they passed and her disappointment immeasurable. Maybe tomorrow.

If her eyes could have burned holes through Shizuo's back, they would have. Anger bubbled up inside of her, not at him, but herself, as she struggled to string her words together. She knew what she wanted to say, but couldn't quite figure out how to say it.

 _"There are so many others like you, and I hope one day you'll find comfort in knowing that."_

Swallowing her pride, Varona finally said, "Senpai, if I can confide in you regarding something personal..."

. . .

If there was anyone Varona was expecting to see at Rakuei Gym, it certainly wasn't the woman she had fought alongside Kujiragi Kasane.

"It's you!" A slightly shocked Mikage said. Smiling, she added, "Small world, huh."

Somewhat reluctantly, Varona explained her thoughts to Mikage, often looking to Shizuo for reassurance, much to her distaste. Why was she so worried? This could be what she needed; that next step to finally accepting herself, to peacefully existing in this city she had grown to call home.

 _"We're assassins, Varona. This is a life you have until you die."_

"We've always been more of a family business," Mikage said. "Though we are getting more students, and I don't remember you being half bad. I'll talk to my brother about it."

Varona bowed her head. "Thank you."

With a wave of her hand, Mikage said her farewells as she left to search for Eijirou. Curious about just who this woman was, Varona watched her go, her attention solely on Mikage until she felt someone bump into her from behind. Varona immediately turned on her heel, hands up and ready to make the first move until she got a glimpse of her assailant.

"Y-You!" Awakusu Akane cried out, pointing at her. From behind her came the Orihara twins, curiously eyeing Varona.

"Curious," Kururi mumbled, while Mairu practically yelled, "Varona-san! Please, let me kiss you this time-"

"What the hell are you two doing back here?"

Shizuo sighed, relieved that he hadn't needed to say a word to the twins. Meanwhile, Mairu flinched at the sound of Eijirou's voice, meeting him with a nervous smile. "Master! Akane-chan left something behind, so we came with her!"

Mikage lightly smacked the back of her brother's head as she walked by. "Don't talk to your students like that."

Shizuo and Varona exchanged glances, and just like that, they excused themselves, leaving the now rather chaotic scene in the gym behind. Cracking a smile, Shizuo asked, "Are you sure you want to work there?"

Straight-faced as always, Varona replied, "I will do what I must."

. . .

"Varona!"

She should've known Simon wouldn't let her know peace once she returned to Russia Sushi. A few days had passed since her last visit so she thought in that time he might have calmed down - though evidently not.

"You eat sushi this time, yes?" Simon continued, grinning from ear to ear. "And you bring Tom-san and Shi-zu-o!" Shizuo and Tom nodded in greeting, not having a chance to say much as Simon turned to Denis. "Make them best sushi!"

"Go get us more customers," Denis snapped. Simon immediately exited the building, fliers in hand.

Chuckling, Tom said, "He's awfully happy. Did something happen?"

Denis shook his head. "He just has a soft spot for your little crow."

"Crow?" Shizuo and Tom asked in unison, to which Varona briefed them on the meaning of her name. "It's oddly fitting," Tom replied, earning a curious look from Varona.

"It was your mother's code name, you know," Denis said.

Varona felt her body freeze up, the sensation bringing her back to the last time she spoke to her father. A strange wariness surged through her being, a foreign feeling that brought her to ask for the first time ever, "What was my mother li-"

"One more customer!" Simon exclaimed, parting the curtains to reveal a shivering Namie, frozen even with a sweater, pants, and her lab coat on.

"Have room for one more?"

. . .

He had never seen Varona smile before, Simon realized in that moment. There was no mistaking it, however; as Namie took her seat beside Varona, she had undoubtedly smiled. Simon wanted to say a word, but didn't dare. (Partly because Denis was glaring at him.)

Seeing her finally surrounded by people who cared about her was all he had ever wanted for her. He had never wanted to teach her how to fight, but she had needed to know how to survive in the world they came from, the world she had been thrust into as no more than a child.

She was going to be okay.

* * *

 **author's note**

Simon and Denis are Varona's dads now. In this essay I will-

ahem

Happy Birthday Varona! I'm so happy to finally be writing for her again. I should be getting around to the long-awaited Namirona fic soon - the keyword here being should.

I haven't had too many ideas for this series lately, but reading over this has gotten me pretty excited! I'd love to write something for Simon, and to see Varona and Mikage's friendship too! I feel like they'd work pretty well together. I am _trying_ to get a proper plot rolling so I can move away from character studies, but I still have some characters left that I haven't written for, so we'll see how that goes. I just really want some more drrr-esque shenanigans, you know?

Speaking of plots...I've started a new multi-chapter fic! It's called Blessed are the Foolish and it's a Good Omens AU! The first chapter alone is what I consider my best work so far, so I would highly recommend checking it out. You don't have to have watched/read Good Omens to read this - though there will be spoilers (with many creative liberties to suit drrr's universe). If you're interested in an angel/demon AU, maybe it'll be up your alley. If you're someone who's been waiting for the next chapter, I'm really sorry it's not out yet! It's taking me a _lot_ longer to get through it than I initially thought, but the last thing I want to do is rush it just to get it out. Thank you for your patience.

Okay, one last point and then I'm done. Promise. Today marks the fifth anniversary of my fic writing career! I said everything I wanted to say last year so I won't repeat myself, but I will say this: thank you so much for your support. It means the world to me.


	17. beauty in simplicity (shincelty)

**beauty in simplicity**

 _"what is love, to someone who isn't human?"_

* * *

If you asked Celty Sturluson when exactly she had fallen in love, she wouldn't be able to give you a clear answer.

Her feelings were a puzzle, still slowly piecing together with each moment, each touch, each emotion that she experienced now, and that she could reflect on from the past. If there was one thing she could answer, at the very least, that would be whether she loved Shinra. Whereas she would have denied it before, the answer was now a definitive yes. That certainty didn't make life any less strange for her, though fortunately, Shinra caught onto this quickly.

"What is love," he asked her one day. "to someone who isn't human?"

Naturally, Celty hadn't been able to give him a straight answer. [What is love, period?] She replied instead.

Shinra laughed. "Are you asking for my opinion as a man of science, or as a man hopelessly in love with you?"

Somewhere inside her inconceivable being Celty rolled her nonexistent eyes and nudged him halfheartedly. While Shinra feigned being in pain, Celty typed her response. [I want _your_ answer.]

Leaning in closer, his hair beginning to brush against her helmet, Shinra said, "Well, Celty, to answer that, I'll have to take you back to a fateful, chilly night in Ireland, twenty-one years ago…"

Celty practically shoved her phone in his face. [Shinra...]

"What?"

[Your answer doesn't have to be about me. What do you think of love in general?]

Shinra sighed dramatically. "How can I give an answer that's not about you?"

Needless to say, the question remained unanswered.

It haunted Celty, almost, following their conversation. _What does it truly mean to be in love?_ She asked herself for days and weeks on end. Really, it was silly to sit around wondering about it all the time. She could finally relax now that she knew the fate of her head, leaving her only present worries to be Kuzuhara and aliens - and whatever chaos would strike Ikebukuro tomorrow, of course.

"You're really bad with that, you know," Shinra commented, focus completely on the video game they were playing, thus was Celty's perspective.

 _Bad with what?_ She wrote with her shadows, her hands occupied with a controller.

"Worrying," he replied, frowning as his character descended into the depths below, knocked off the edge like it was nothing by none other than Celty.

 _Nothing's worrying me._

Shinra's character respawned and went in for an immediate, ruthless attack. He appeared to be putting all of his might into button smashing, whereas Celty's playstyle was more rhythmic, calm, and focused.

Calm and focused, though she soon found herself flying up into the air and into the distance.

"Maybe 'worry' isn't the right word." Shinra turned to face her as the victory screen appeared, taking her hands into his. "But you're thinking about something."

Describing herself using human terminology was a bad habit Celty had yet to break, though it wasn't as if there was a handbook out there somewhere about the experiences of a dullahan. Whereas some things were felt in her physical body, others she experienced through her shadows. This moment, as Shinra held her hands, looking her in the eye with a kindness and concern he could never even think to give anyone else, was something felt within those shadows. It was inexplicable, and yet, something about it felt right. Was this what Shinra felt stirring inside of him, she wondered?

[I know you won't believe me when I say this, but it's nothing. Really. I'm just curious.]

Sighing, Shinra conceded. "If you say so."

With what she imagined felt like a smile, Celty freed her hands for just a moment to remove her helmet before resting against his shoulder. Shinra's hand found hers once more, and with her free one, she wrote, [I just want to sit here with you.]

"I won't complain."

Maybe love didn't have to be some strange, overcomplicated concept. Maybe it didn't matter how she experienced it, or how Shinra did. After all, all she had ever wanted was life within their cozy apartment near Kawagoe Highway, together with Shinra.

Whatever mess Ikebukuro threw at her the next day, she'd be able to face it, as long as she had him by her side.

* * *

 **author's note**

I wasn't expecting to update so soon, but here I am! This was actually a request from a mutual on Twitter and not an intended part of TSIE, but it actually serves as a really good segue into the next (planned) chapter (despite taking place years prior on the timeline, but hey)! I don't know when that will be out as I'm trying to prioritize school and my other projects, but hopefully it'll be out soon (probably around October-November?)

I announced this on one of my other fics a while back, but I thought I'd announce it again here for good measure: I am one of the writers for the Durarara fanzine Urban Legend! If you'd like to support me and the rest of the team, be sure to check out the zine's Twitter (DurararaZine) and Tumblr (durararazine) accounts. Preorders are set to open in October, so mark your calendars!

Thank you for reading!


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